Thistle In The Crown
by Butterfrogmantis
Summary: Set in a humanised TTTE AU where Donald and Douglas are peppery, proud princes of the McIntosh clan. When they're faced with a century's old tradition neither want to uphold, they decide to flee southwards. Their hopes of being left alone are soon shattered as they are joined by another pair of twins, fleeing northwards for another reason altogether...
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Glen was a most befitting name for a horse. Especially considering how nimbly he raced through this one, the strong hooves shaking the earth below, ploughing through the amber leaves and sending a few wild grouse scattering into the safety of the bracken.

Donald McIntosh leant backwards, his thighs gripping the sturdy ribs of the Clydesdale beneath him, and let out a long whoop of joy. It reverberated off the mountains in the distance, and a small flock of sparrows escaped from a nearby tree and took to the skies, the beating of their wings and the shrill of their voices fading into the lazy afternoon air. The horse beneath him threw back his head and neighed loudly, joining his rider in careless elation as they galloped further into the mossy glen. A small stream gurgled past the horse and rider, spitting cooling droplets onto the stallion's hooves and following them with a hazy reflection.

"Aw no man, ye've gone an' been snatched up by a kelpie!"

Donald turned his head sharply to the right, to see a Clydesdale mare racing along the upper track of the glen, her bay coat shimmering where the patches of light from the overhead oaks hit her powerful legs. Upon her back was a man who was physically identical to Donald; although he wore slightly different attire. Douglas McIntosh.

Donald grinned, sticking his tongue out playfully at his brother, who returned the gesture. The stream turned sharply into the undergrowth, and Donald had reached the end of the trek-able glen. He gently rode to a halt, and waited for the other rider to catch up. It took a few moments for the other man to guide his mare down the grassy bank, but they eventually stood side by side. Glen nickered softly underneath Donald, and the two horses began to groom each other's necks.

A cooling zephyr whistled across the ground, stirring the grass. The men sat a while in silence, peering over the thicket to the vast expanses of green moor that lay beyond the overgrown brambles and stinging nettles. Mountains rose high and imposing in the distance, their white summits winking in the mid-afternoon sunshine. The two had often stared into the distance until their eyes blurred, wondering what lay in the lands beyond, but never knowing. This glen, as far as they were concerned, was theirs. No-one else ever came down, and no-one else seemed to know about it. This made it the perfect place to get away from castle stresses, or simply to sit a while in peace. When the silence began to drag, Douglas turned his attention back to his brother.

"Yer Glen's a fast one Donnie, ah'll give him that"

Donald smirked.

"Ah always knew he'd be the better. It's just ma superior skills, don't ye feel too bad Dougie"

Douglas gave a hearty chuckle, patting the red neck of his steed fondly.

"Ach, Glen's fast alright, but he has nae of his sister's agility. Ah doubt he could have climbed that incline like Skye here"

"He coulda climbed twice that height" Donald huffed, earning a laugh from his sibling.

"Maybe if he sprouted wings"

Suddenly, all four heads were turned northwards; startled by the sound of a deep horn. Skye shook her head, tossing her mane so that it slapped Douglas across the chest.

"Ach that'll be the maw"

"Aye, calling us fer haggis"

"Or a beatin'"

The two chuckled as they gave a gentle nudge to their mount's ribs and rode them towards the stone building in the distance.

"Thank ye Finlay"

The frail man smiled wanly.

"Thank you, your highness"

"Ye'll make sure he gets the fodder? None o' that dead grass an' muck"

"Only the best, sir"

Donald patted Glen's flank fondly, fed him a few oats and then strolled through the kitchen doors, stealing a piece of bread from off the sideboard as he made his way to the dining room.

Douglas shook his head at his brother's behaviour, and gently passed the reins of his mare to the servant.

"Sorry aboot ma brother Finlay, he's all pace nae care. But he means well ... fer Glen"

Finlay smiled more broadly at this twin, his dark lips twitching with bemusement. The stable hand had watched both brothers grow ever since they were 'wee bairns' charging about the yard and poking the ponies with sticks they found on the ground. Donald was certainly braver, more headstrong, but he lacked the same amount of empathy his brother possessed. But the man was still good of heart, which is why Finlay never thought badly of either of them. Plus they, like he, were now gentle to the horses, and the creatures showed no malice for the princes. Whoever horses trusted, Finlay O'Sullivan would trust too.

Douglas rubbed Skye's nose gentle with his knuckles, and followed his brother through the flagstone floored kitchens, up the spiral staircase, and through the main hall towards the feast room.

Donald was already seated near the high table, his plate piled high with samples of the feast laid out in front of them. Douglas pulled up a chair closest to his mother, and began helping himself to potatoes and meat.

About three quarters of his way into his roast beef, Douglas noticed there was an unusual air of silence. Well, apart from Donald's muffled chewing as he was stuffing his face with an unattractive amount of parsnips.

"Is everything alright mother?" Douglas turned to his maternal guardian.

Maggie Mcintosh was a stocky, strong woman, and a head taller than all of her female companions. She had wild, untamed crimson hair, which complimented the shade of tartan the Mcintosh clan wore. Her eyes were the same emerald green as her sons, and her nose had the same pointed curve. She wore a short fuchsia dress, loose fitting for movement, and a tartan garment draped over her left shoulder, and down past her knees, held together by a stocky leather belt. The tartan was wrapped also around her neck, and poking out from underneath; a silver chain with a charm of a thistle. She bore a permanent frown that was not intimidating, but gave the impression you had done something wrong - even if you were not aware of what it was.

Maggie's eyes flicked across the food to her husband, who, much like his eldest son, was busy gorging himself on rich amounts of stuffing. Calum McIntosh was another head taller than his wife, and slightly stronger in the torso. He had a mop of ebony hair, and chiselled sideburns. His eyes were light blue, and his nose had a deep hook. The king wore traditional Scottish attire – with the same crimson tartan as the rest of his clan, and his torso was decorated in light blue paint in Celtic designs. He often liked to boast over these, and wore them regardless of the occasion. When he locked eyes with his wife, he swallowed his mouthful slowly, and then rose from the table looking, in all his glory, like a phoenix from the ashes. Turning to his descendants, he cleared his throat.

"We will go for a walk tonight boys, we have an urgent matter to discuss"

The twins stared first at their father, and then at each other. It was very unusual for them to take a stroll with discussion, and only happened if something exciting was about to happen. Both princes felt a tingle of anticipation run up their spines.

Whilst the kitchen staff were cleaning up the place settings, Calum took his sons for the promised enigmatic stroll. The large oak doors of the castle creaked on their hinges, years of weather and the occasional battering ram had caused them to emit impressive creaks whenever they were opened. The air was cold, and when they breathed, the breath was visible of the three of them. If they looked up, they could see thousands upon thousands of stars, undisturbed in the clear night air, and twinkling peacefully amongst themselves in the blanket of the dark sky. The moors that stretched out the front of the castle were long and lonely, and Calum did not utter a word until they had reached the dip.

The dip, as its name suggested, was a crater in the Mcintosh moor. Stretching nearly 9 meters across and at least 4 deep, many legends had come to surround it. Some claim the stones of the Mcintosh castle were forged from a meteorite that had landed there. Other's claimed it was a giant's footprint, or a nest that had once belonged to a highland dragon. There were often strange reports surrounding the pit, servants would claim they had seen ethereal figures dancing in it. Most of the time they were also reported to have had more than their fair share of ale, so no-one was ever truly sure what to believe. However the pit had occurred, it was legendary to the Mcintosh clan, and if Calum had brought them here, the matter he wished to discuss must be of the upmost importance.

"Ye two are comin' o' age now" He began, slow and solemnly. All the while his eyes were fixed on the centre of the dip.

"Aye father, another two months should do it" Donald pointed out. "We'll both be ready then"

Calum's eyebrows rose slightly.

"So ye know why I've called ye out?"

Donald and Douglas exchanged an inquisitive glance.

"To discuss our prospects of rulership?" Douglas inquired.

Their father nodded gravely.

"Something like that" He lifted his left hand upwards, into the moonlight. Shining amongst the battle scars, on the second finger from the left, was a gold ring. Neither brother had to ask any further, although they felt their hearts hammer nervously against their chest.

"M-marriage?" Donald breathed, his emerald green eyes fixated on the small golden band.

Calum nodded, not lowering his hand.

"A-are we granted the choice?" Douglas stammered.

"Of sorts" Their father coughed "Yer mother has been in conference with the local tribes. Out of all o' them, she agreed to send tae daughters of the McClure's and Galloway's. You are lucky that ye are two, for ye may have the choice, if mutual"

"That explains the games ground" Donald frowned. As the brothers had approached the castle, they had noticed an abundance of servants setting up caber logs and archery targets.

"And how long will we have to ... prepare?" Donald's voice sounded unusually strained.

"Ah well ... we didn't want to frighten ya so we left it till ... last minute"

"Such as ... next week?" Even Douglas was surprised, although he was usually the calmer under pressure.

The king coughed, lowering his ring at last, and finally facing away from the dip, and looked his sons in the eyes.

"They arrive tomorrow"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The fanfare woke Donald up from a vivid daydream about riding Glen over the highland mountain peaks. His hand slipped from underneath him, where it had been resting his chin, whilst he stared at nothing in particular on the western wall of the great gathering chamber. Donald glanced out of the window; half expecting to see night had fallen. It had not. Shame really, that way he would have had an excuse to go to sleep. Now the fanfare had sounded, there was no chance of that. He sat up straight, his right arm numb, and plastered what he hoped was a convincing beam on his face. Two seats away from him, separated by their parents, Douglas flashed his brother a half-reassuring smile. Whatever the outcome, they'd have each other, as they always had. Even if it meant ... separating. It was assumed the princes would return with their brides back to the other clans to ensure they were welcomed. If that happened, the brothers feared they would not see each other for a long time. As much as they occasionally fought, they were still brothers, and the bond of sibling hood was strong.

The chamber doors heaved open, and two processions filed into the hall, filling the room with an abundance of green and yellow tartans. As soon as the common clans' folk were comfortably arranged, the fanfare changed to a much more impressive tune, as four nobilities entered, their daughters walking in front.

The girl dressed in the yellow McClure tartan was tall and slender, and she had a sweep of silky chestnut hair, tied back in a thick plait. Her features were porcelain, and delicate, as though if you dropped her she might break. Her dark eyes were framed by thick lashes, her face a perfect heart shape. She walked with the gait of a swan upon water, and had a habit of looking at the ground, or her diminutive black boots when she walked, in order to avoid eye contact.

The girl in the green Galloway tartan was a little shorter, and stocky with the build of a gardener. Her pale face was adorned with freckles, and she had an assertive confidence in her stride. Flaming ginger locks were clamped into two bunches either side of her face, held in place by silver thistle clips, and she wore a green bobble hat to cover the straying curls. Her eyes were deep blue and she appeared to have dried mud caked to the hem of her skirt.

"Her highness Gavina McClure"

The frail girl stepped forwards from her parents and gave a gentle curtsey. Her father placed a strong hand upon her shoulder.

"Yer majesty, mah eldest daughter Gavina is as sweet as honey and as fair as any orchid. Ah present her before ye to ask fer one o' yer sons hands in marriage"

Calum and Maggie both gave small nods, scanning the girl for first impressions as she stepped backwards.

"Her highness Heather Galloway"

The ginger woman stepped forwards, grinning broadly and bowed clumsily. Gavina gave her a nervous glance. The two were so different in manner and frame that Donald couldn't help but smirk behind a well placed hand.

Heather's mother placed a hand upon the opposing shoulder that Gavina had been presented by.

"Yer highnesses, mah onleh daughter Heather is a strong and sturdy lass, ah know she'll make a fine wife to one of o' yer sons"

Then Heather too stepped backwards. Maggie rose from her throne, opening her arms and began addressing the gathering in her clearest voice.

Donald gave a quiet sigh, and turned once more to the western wall. He was only vaguely thinking about the prospect that he had to marry one of the girls. Well ... what was it all for? The upholding of tradition, the continuation of lineage - sure. But shouldn't marriage be more of an act of love? The promise of companionship? Who could Donald ever find like that – would he find it in either of these lassies and ... did he have a choice if not?

Douglas bowed his head over his lap, scanning the faces of the crowds, and the two betrothed to him before him. Douglas had always been a romantic deep down, far more so than his brother. Donald looked actively bored. Douglas was rather more interested, but still a lick of doubt raked at his insides, taunting him with reservations of fate and compatibility. What was the chance, that out of the whole world of people he could meet, Douglas' soul mate happened to lie in one of these two nobilities? When all factors were added up, the likelihood was slim. So then what? Explore the world? Or sit idly content with the promise of a royal linage and a fair face at the cost of, when all was said and done, true love.

Douglas blushed a little to himself, feeling foolish about such a prospect. He was no longer a wee bairn listening to one of Maggie's bedtime stories. There were no true love kisses and magic spells. There was only the cold ring of a lifetime commitment to a woman he still knew nothing about. His doubts were growing higher than Ben Nevis.

"Before our sons make their offering, we shall have the games. But first, we feast!"

The uproar from the crowds brought both of the princes sharply back to their senses. The gathering doors opened once more, and servants emerged carrying three long dining tables. These were placed down whilst the cooks brought in the food. The Galloway clan sat at one table, the McClure's sat at another and the McIntosh's and the other clan royals on the third. The kings and queens all began to discuss the best attributes of their offspring in the hopes of further selling their prospects for marriage. The four younger royals all stared at the feast, the wall, the floor, their parents – anywhere but each other's eyes. They busied themselves with food as an honest distraction. Donald was surprised to find that Heather was capable of eating even more than him, and he envied her stomach capacity.

Douglas finished his portions and insisted he wanted a walk to 'sort out his thoughts'. He took a tartan scarf with him and crept down through the kitchens, and out into the back stables before anyone could pursue him. That night was colder than the previous, but Douglas welcomed it, for the gathering room had been hot with steamed roasts.

Douglas leant against a large wooden stable and clicked softly until Skye approached him. He fed her some fodder from a bucket that was hanging by her stable, and stroked the bay nose softly whilst her deep brown eyes looked up at him, sensing unease in her rider.

"If ah have tae chose Skye, ah hope they'll let ye come too"

"Well then, ah'll be sad to see you both go"

Douglas whirled around, but it was only Finlay O'Sullivan, the friendly stable hand.

"Just yeh Finlay ..."

"Now, you were perhaps expecting a beautiful lass?" Finlay's dark eyes twinkled with a little mischief. Finlay, although not of Irish descent, for his parents had come from a land much further away, spoke with the soothing accent of the emerald isles, and it was a pleasant change for the prince. Finlay had travelled overseas to the McIntosh clan when he was a teenager, and had served there ever since, and the princes had come to regard him as an uncle like figure, for it was Finlay that had raised them second hand, and kept them out of trouble when Calum and Maggie could not.

"You are worried about these maidens? I could see a little of the procession"

"Ah'm ... a wee bit ... torn" Douglas nibbled anxiously at a hangnail on his thumb. "The princess' are nice enough, but what if I –if WE" He gestured, referring to Donald "Aren't happy? What if we separate? An' then war breaks out an' ... oh what are a couple o' laddies tae do ? ..."

Finlay listened patiently, showing neither apathy or sympathy for the man.

"You can separate from your brother and still be together" He said quietly after a while.

"Huh?"

"I have many brothers back in Donegal, and even though we're miles apart, we're together in heart. That's what our mam would say"

"It just willnae feel right – why can't we stay here?"

"Now, there's two of you and only one castle, you'll fight"

"Me and Donnie don't fight – uhh, we would nae start a war" Douglas corrected, noticing the stable hand had raised an eyebrow. The man had separated many of the princes' brawls.

"Well then, regardless your majesty, I think you'll find more benefit for your kingdoms, just don't forget to visit ol' Finlay eh?" The man doffed his cap and hobbled into the stables to tend to the hunting horses.

"Together in heart? Ah'm not even together in heart with whichever bloomin' lassie ah'm supposed to wed" He muttered darkly, turning back to Skye and rubbing the mare's jaw gently. "Ah swear Skye, I willnae lose you, or Donnie. Or our freedom. Ah don't know what we'll do but ... Ah guess we'll ..."

Douglas stared around the deserted courtyard, but all he could see were the caber logs in the games ground, and they wouldn't tell him the answer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"Maw said ye looked like the caber tossin' kind"

Donald removed his sash from his face where he had been using it to block out the sun. He had been dozing in the grass meadow near the dip, hoping for a little piece and quiet, but Heather Galloway had found him. The question puzzled the prince slightly. Was she calling him strong? Then again that wasn't a bad compliment at all. Too bad it wasn't true.

"Nae" He placed the sash over his eyes again "Ah can throw the littleuns, maybeh the medium, but ah'm more fond of ridin'"

"Ye must own a lot o' horses"

Donald smirked.

"Glen's ma personal favourite. Ye cannae miss him – sleekest Clydesdale in tae country"

"Ah saw yer brother riding a bay Clydesdale across tae moors earlier"

Donald lifted his sash from his eyes again, frowning.

"Nae way! That's Glen's sister"

Heather giggled and jumped down onto the grass besides him. Donald shifted a little uncomfortably, slinging the sash back over his shoulder. Well, no afternoon nap for him then. It only reoccurred to him just then that he was potentially betrothed to the pushy lassie. So he figured he might at least try to be a little kinder. Heather certainly seemed more fun that the 'delicate' princess of the McClure clan. Even so, Donald wasn't entirely enthusiastic about it. He would rather be able to get to know his fiancée before they were engaged, not get to know them after. Especially since he didn't really want to be wed at all, not to a stranger. But Donald was no fool, tradition was tradition, and his parents expected two white weddings, new kingdoms and a ... lineage. Donald shivered.

"It's a wee bit warm tae be shivering laddie" Heather chuckled "It's nae even snowin'"

"Oh uh, ah was just thinking o' ... stuff"

Heather regarded him for a moment, her ginger curls catching a brilliant shine in the sunlight.

"Ye ... nervous?"

"Aboot ..."

"Ah think ye know"

Donald gulped, and then he slowly nodded.

"Look ... Heather. Ye seem like a nice lassie but ... it's all too soon don't ye think?"

The woman closed her eyes, inhaled deeply and held her breath. After a few moments she released it, a strained grin on her freckled face.

"It's fer the good o' clans"

"Well that wasnae at all an obvious recital"

Heather's face fell.

"Alright well, aye. But's it's nae like they'll listen to us"

Donald sighed, it was true. The night their father had told them of the betrothal, the princes had argued bitterly for many hours, but both Calum and Maggie had insisted that that was that. Heather and Donald sat in an uncomfortable silence a little while longer, both looking in the direction of the McIntosh castle. There was a stirring of noise from the castle grounds were a band of bagpipe players were attempting to perfect the chorus of Marie's Wedding.

"Shame me maw nae lets me near tae bagpipes anymore ..." Heather said at last.

"Why?"

"She said it sounds like a bairn goin' fer a jobbie"

Donald snorted at the mental imagery of this and stuffed his sash in his mouth to save himself some of his dignity.

"But hey, marry me an' ah'll get em back"

Donald grimaced, thinking quite seriously that he would never want to hear that sound in his life. A couple of bumblebees buzzed past him, stopping momentarily to gather pollen from a small flower near Donald's feet. He envied them. Free flitting little things. The prince thought he could rather use a stinger at times too.

On the other side of the castle wall, Douglas was checking the racing horses for the games. There were 5 of them in total, all proud thoroughbreds varying from grey to chestnut. There were also a small posse of Shetland ponies for the children of the clans to ride, and Finlay was tending to these. He'd grown particularly fond of a little Piebald mare called Fife, the gentlest of the bunch.

Douglas coveted this job, especially as one of the thoroughbred stallions was being particularly ornery that day, snapping at everyone and everything.

"Ol Jack's been like that all mornin'"

Douglas sighed irritably, attempting to coax the stallion into submission with a carrot.

"Health check?"

"Fit as a fiddle"

"He looks a wee bit agitated"

Douglas turned to see Gavina McClure standing in the doorway of the stable, lifting the hem of her skirt a few centimetres lest it trail into the straw that covered the floor.

"Whit?"

"Has he been out yet?"

Douglas frowned. There hadn't been a rider to let him out of the paddock because they were all busy with the games.

"Nae ah don't suppose so ..." Douglas walked to the back door of the stables and called to Jack's rider to let him out for a few moments. He turned back to Gavina, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Ye know much about horses?"

"Nae ... bit messy." Gavina wrinkled her nose as she looked down at the floor of the stable. "But from here ah could see he looked cooped up"

Douglas chuckled kind-heartedly but internally he worried how he'd get along with a bride that wouldn't like his horses. True, Gavina was a lot less brash than the Galloway princess, but he didn't want to be a protector, he wanted to be a companion. He liked a little spirit, Gavina always seemed permanently startled. As he was thinking this, a pair of bees flew in through the stable doors, and Gavina jumped, falling into the adjacent stable onto the Shetland ponies that nickered in surprise. Finlay leapt over the fencing to rescue her, whilst Douglas turned back to the thoroughbreds that had started their own chorus of neighing. The scene had become chaotic in just a few moments. This really wasn't a great start, but Douglas knew the dress rehearsal was about to start. He decided to go on without waiting.

"The games are all set up" Donald assured his parents as he ascended up the spiralling staircase towards the royal bedchambers.

Douglas was looking out of the window on the wall that separated the princes' sleeping chambers. There was a crease between his brows, and Donald knew his brother was deep in thought. He, like Donald, was still dressed in his wedding rehearsal attire that the prince's had gained earlier, and intricate blue swirls coasted both brother's torsos.

"It's a fine night" Donald murmured quietly, attempting to distract Douglas' attention. It worked slightly, for the prince's eyes shifted rightwards, but he did not turn away from the window.

"Tomorrow's the choice" Donald muttered, quietly again.

At first he thought Douglas wouldn't answer, and he made to speak again. Douglas got there first.

"And ... have ye reached a decision brother?"

Donald sighed.

"Nae ... you?"

"Nae"

More silence. Donald folded his arms as he too stared out of the window, looking at the highlands, purpled by the velvet night. Their home. The prince's had never strayed further than the moors and mountains, it was all they knew. And now, they would have to leave it all to marry women they didn't know. They had tomorrow to hold on to, and then the famous Donald and Douglas duo would cease.

"Ah dinnae suppose the thought of ... runnin' has crossed yer mind" Donald kept his turned towards the window, but his eyes looked sideward's, to see Douglas' reaction.

"It crossed o'er my mind" Douglas inhaled sharply and straightened up. "But where Donnie?"

"Well" Donald narrowed his eyes and looked over the view again, his eyes searching the mountains and meadows, over the dip and across the valleys. His eyes settled on a little point in the south of the land.

"The glen Dougie"

"Hm?"

"We've always said it's secret right? Well what aboot the thicket? Ah'm sure if we take a sword or somethin' we can cut our way through leftwards into tae forest, they'll be harder to track than the moors. After that we head southwards"

Douglas's mouth twisted to the side, considering his brothers proposition. Then, he nodded defiantly.

"When they're all asleep"

"Aye brother"

The two princes stared into the horizon; wondering just how secret their secret glen really was.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

"Donnie tae horses!" Douglas grabbed his brother's forearm.

"What?" Donald hissed back, putting a finger to his lips to remind his sibling to be quiet.

"Glen an' Skye, we need to take em"

Donald frowned. Their horses were large Clydesdales, and would give them a lot of ground. Plus they cared for their equine companions dearly. But horses of their size would never fit comfortably through the forest, and were easily traceable.

"Dougie we ... we have tae leave them"

In the moonlight, Douglas' eyes grew wide.

"L-leave them? B-but one o' tae reason's ah'm runnin' is so ah dinnae have tae give Skye up ..."

Donald bit his lip. He didn't like the idea of leaving Glen behind any more than Douglas wanted to leave Skye. Donald and Douglas had been given the two foals when their mother's prize mare had given birth to twins. Maggie had seen it as fate and given each of her own twins their share.

"C-can we at least say goodbye to them?" Douglas' voice was unusually high, shaky slightly. Donald felt a bit like that himself.

"We have to cover as much ground as possible before they wake up, it'll be harder tae walk"

"Please" Douglas insisted, tugging Donald's forearms in the direction of the stable. The prince sighed, then nodded and followed his brother to their steeds. The twin Clydesdale's nickered in greeting, but were quickly shushed by the princes, who spent a short while stroking their sturdy muzzles and saying goodbye. Douglas held onto Skye's muzzle a while longer, and wouldn't move until Donald reminded him why they were fleeing again, and that Finlay would look after the horses. Then, farewells over, the two princes looked at each other, nodded, and left the stable. One of the horses neighed loudly as they retreated, and Donald and Douglas broke into a run towards the glen.

*****

"Great idea tae flee in a storm"

"Wee whist man, how was ah supposed tae know?"

"It wouldnae have hurt tae bring a few more supplies"

"It wouldnae hurt if ye shut yer gob"

The two brothers had been walking for what felt like hours. Their calves were caked with thick mud, and both had a share of scratches on their shoulders from overhanging branches. The lining of Douglas's sash was fraying slightly from where it caught in the brambles as they pushed into the forest. Above them loomed large pine trees, whose knobbly trunks' leered down like faces as distant lightning illuminated them. Rain thundered down on all sides, creating pools of combined mud and pine needles. Every so often one of the princes would step onto a pine cone, and curse. Both prayed they wouldn't encounter any wild animals – especially not hungry ones.

"We're gonna need tae rest soon Donnie" Douglas yelled over the wind and rain, brushing needles from his hair "We cannae keep goin' in this weather, and the rain marks our tracks"

He pointed to where a line of footprints had sunk into the mud.

"We need tae get out tae forest Dougie, then we can rest"

"Do ye even know how big tae forest is? We might still have days ahead o' us!"

Donald paused, leaning against a large boulder. His brother spoke sense, they had no idea how large the forest was, and both were tired and soaked. He turned back around, just as lighting striked the pine tree Douglas stood under.

"OUT TAE WAY!" Was all Douglas heard as he felt his brother's body slam against his and send him sprawling backwards into a particularly large muddy puddle, soaking him to the skin with oozing sludge.

"Donnie what in the – DONALD!" Douglas sat up, ignoring the feeling of slimy mire that coated him.

His brother was trapped under the pine tree that had fallen, the trunk pressed firmly on top of Donald's chest. The prince grunted in pain, attempting to shift the log, but his strength was being sapped out of him by the crushing mass on his ribs.

"Donald ah'll get ye out!" Douglas slammed himself against the log. It shifted a little, but he could not lift it. Donald groaned louder with pain, his breathing more shallow, and his eyes welling with tears.

"D-Dougie ... g-go on man!"

"Ah'm no leavin' ye Donnie!" The prince shoved the log again, but it still wouldn't give way. "Ah fer fook sake, HELP"

"Donnie are ye mad? There's no one h-here! And if ye s-shout they'll find us!" Donald's breathing was frighteningly thin, and he kept coughing.

"Ah'd rather go back than lose ye man! HELP! SOMEONE! O'ER HERE!"

"Douglas fer Scotland's sake man no-one c-"

Both princes suddenly quietened down. They could hear voices approaching. Quiet, but definitely human.

"Now ye've done it" Donald slammed his palm into his face. "Ye had yer chance man"

"Over here!"

"Where?"

"Other way! No, OTHER other way"

"Nae that's not the clans man, they're not even Scottish" Douglas frowned, puzzled. But he was right. The two voices were not like their own, or any they'd heard before. They had a peculiar habit of rising in unpredictable places. Still, Douglas saw his chance to free his brother and called to them again.

Two figures came running from behind some trees, and the princes caught sight of two blonde men, a little shorter than the princes. They didn't have time or vision to study their features in detail just yet, and the log still needed to be moved.

"There's a bloke stuck under a log Ben"

"I can see that Bill!"

"Cor there's another one here Ben!"

"I can see that too Bill!"

The princes blinked, baffled by the strangers chatter. Donald gave another shuddering cough.

"Oof it's a bit tight" One of the newcomers stuck his hands under the upper end of the log, and the other joined "But I think we can lift it far enough for the dude to scramble out. 3 2 1 HEAVE" Both of the blonde men shoved at the log.

"Oi, muddy" One of the voices addressed Douglas "You called for help, you can supply it too"

Perplexed, Douglas gave his own strength to the cause, and Donald shoved with all his might from underneath. The log gave way and Donald scrambled out from underneath, inhaling deeply and coughing. There was a heavy indent of the log texture indented in his skin, and he was bleeding slightly, but not severely. Douglas was more worried about internal damage.

"Arm and a leg Ben?"

"Just an arm Bill, this bloke's heavy"

"Must be all the muscle"

"Concentrate you goon"

Douglas couldn't help but laugh at the peculiar sight He was glad he brother was free now. And the lightening had stopped, although the heavy rain continued. He followed the two blonde strangers to a large pine tree – the largest he'd ever seen really. There was an opening at the base of the trunk, large enough for any of them to squeeze through, and Douglas found that it was hollow inside, at least part of the way up the trunk. It was a slight squeeze, but all four fit in. The two strangers gently lay Donald to rest on a pile of soft ferns, and then one of them lit a small fire from tinders in the centre of the space. The four men gathered around it for warmth. The man who hadn't lit the fire began to rustle through some leaves in one corner of the tree. He produced a small bowl of spring water and a bandage and began to carefully wash and cover Donald's wounds.

In the light of the fire, the princes had time to observe their rescuers properly. They couldn't have been much younger than the princes, although they were on the short size for their age. There were practically identical apart from style choice, identical twins much like the princes. One of the men, the one that had tended to Donald – Bill perhaps, parted his hair on the right side of his face, so it was left to the princes. The other that had lit the fire, Ben, parted his on the left, which to Donald and Douglas looked like the right. Bill was wearing a light grey top that cut short at his elbows and a sleeveless leather waist coat over it, tied over his chest with thick string. Ben wore a full sleeve grey top, with a brown woven scarf that drooped over his left shoulder but left the right exposed. Both were slightly more tanned than the Scots, and they had dark chocolate eyes that twinkled mischievously in the embers, giving them an impish look.

"Ma brother an' ah owe ye one" Douglas eventually said to break the silence.

"You were certainly in a spot of bother" Bill chuckled. "Lucky we were there"

"Why are ye here? Ah mean ... you're obviously not from around these parts" Donald asked, wincing in pain as he tried to sit up.

"We're running from Birmingham"

"Runnin?"

"Slight bit of trouble you see. We're the bees on the run, there's a £250 reward on our heads. Hey!-"

Ben had elbowed his brother sharply in the ribs.

"Oh sure, now they'll turn us in!"

"We won't" The princes said in unison. Apart from owing the bees one, they felt a thrill in this development.

"Hm. Well it's not like we did anything that bad. Just ..."

"Borrowed a few things"

"And didn't give them back" Ben smirked, and then quickly changed the subject. "Well that's the long and short of it, what on earth are you two doing out here? You certainly don't look like the criminal kind" he added, eyeing up the prince's attire and jewellery.

"We're r-"

"Simple travellers lookin' fer a life down south!"

"Awfully fancy attire for a couple of travellers" Ben frowned.

"How many Scottish travellers have ye met laddie?"

Ben sucked in his breath.

"Touché"

"Well, it's been a long night already" Donald yawned "We can clean up in the mornin' once the rain has settled"

"There's a clean stream near here" Bill informed them, gathering dry moss from the inside of the tree and handing it to Douglas. "That'll be more comfortable than the pine needles"

Douglas nodded thankfully and curled up in one corner to sleep. Donald rested against the bark to support his back and chest, and he too began to doze. The two Brummies watched and waited till their hosts were asleep, and then they began to whisper over the dying embers.

"What do you think Bill? Can we trust them?"

"Why shouldn't we?"

"What if they're government spies? They'll trick us and take us back to England and it'll be the noose for the both of us!"

"They're Scottish for a start – besides look at that one" Bill nodded towards the injured Donald "That was hardly a trick"

"Hmph. I still think we should keep an eye – both eyes on them"

"Oh yes, but a bit of company won't hurt. Especially not handsome company like these two"

In the amber light, Ben saw his brother's cheeks flush pink, and he elbowed him sharply again.

"Ouch! What, they are very attractive, especially that shirtless Donald one~"

"He's a stranger Bill, don't you go getting ideas"

"Oh but Ben I could be his knight in shining armour~"

"Or a scruffy waist coat" Ben snorted. "Get real Bill. We need to keep our heads down"

"I'd like to keep my head down on that one's shoulder alright" Bill teased.

But Ben did not elbow him this time, because he was already fast asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

A stream of warm sunlight filtered through the branches of the pine trees and cast a thin ray of light across the face of the sleeping Bill. The Brummie stirred and lifted his head from his moss pillow, little bits of fern sticking to his cheeks. He brushed them off with the back of his hand as he let out a long, loud yawn and nudged his brother with the heel of his foot. Ben emitted a low whine and then also emerged from his al fresco bed. The first thing the two brothers saw were the sleeping Scotsmen. Then they remembered their daring rescue from the night before.

"We need fresh water – double the order" Ben nodded at the sleeping strangers.

"We'll go before they wake up" Bill suggested.

Ben considered this, and then furrowed his brow.

"What if they steal stuff?"

"Steal WHAT?" Bill snorted "Our tree? Some moss?"

"Our supplies" Ben snapped back "Say we get caught under a tree next and they've taken our medical supplies, then what?"

"This one won't get far – medical supplies or not" Bill nodded to the sleeping Donald whose chest was slightly pinked either side of his bandages from the wound.

"Even so, I'm not risking it" Ben said huffily "I'll take the uninjured one and gather supplies and breakfast – you –"

"Keep an eye on the other one" Bill's eyes twinkle unusually brightly. "That I can do"

"... don't get any ideas" Ben narrowed his eyes.

"Me?" His brother feigned a look of innocence "Wouldn't dream of it"

From the corner of the trunk, a low mumbling sounded and the arch of Douglas' back rose as  
the sleeping Scotsman stirred.

"Whit's all the racket fer Donnie?" He sat up, blinked a few times in surprise, and then seemed to remember the events from the night before. His voice had awoken Donald, who jolted and cursed in pain as he scraped his bare back against the bark of the tree.

"Careful" Bill reminded him cheerily and walked over to tend to his new friends' needs. "We were just saying that Ben and uhh" He blinked "We were never formally introduced. I heard you called your brother Donald"

Donald nodded sincerely.

"Ah'm Douglas" Douglas announced, stretching. "An ah know ye two are called Bill an' Ben but ah cannea tell the difference yet"

The bees smirked at each other mischievously; as though that was the way they liked things.  
"Well, you'll get to know Ben once you two collect breakfast" Bill pointed at the exit of the hollow tree. "You'll get to know the forest too Douglas. I'll stay here and look after your brother"

Ben glared at his enthusiasm to get alone with Donald, but the rumbling in his stomach prevented him from arguing. He allowed Douglas to come to his senses, and then he grabbed a satchel and led the uninjured twin out into the forest.

The two walked in silence, unsure of what to stay to each other. The pine trees were thick overhead, and the gaps in their needles cast little flecks of golden sunlight onto the path ahead. As they turned a corner, the intense suppression of the pine trees thinned out into oak and silver birches, and a few native birds could be heard singing in the trees.

The two men broke through a patch of ferns, and emerged at the edge of a babbling brook. The water gurgled and churned itself peacefully over ebony stepping stones, the water as clear as glass. A few pine needles and acorns floated down the stream, but the water was quite empty and clear otherwise. Ben stooped down by the brook and took two flasks from his satchel, holding them against the flow of the current until they filled. Then he tightened the lids and placed them carefully back.

"Now, breakfast" Ben pointed downstream where the brook disappeared out of their visual field. "It opens to a small lake" Ben shrugged casually, tightening his satchel over his shoulder "Few fish and enough berries for the four of us"

Douglas gazed at him in awe. Having run away with Donald, the princes hadn't even considered living rough. They were so used to castle life, and having everything served to them, quite literally on silver platters.

"So what are you really doing out here?" Ben asked, as they headed towards the lake. "My brother's a little more foolish but two Scotsmen don't flee south with GOLD belts for nothing. Simple travellers my left foot. So tell me"

Douglas gulped. Although both of them knew Douglas could easily overpower the Brummie if he wanted, Ben somehow held the power in the conversation.  
"These are fools golds belts laddie, nothing uhh ... valuable in em"

Ben glared, and Douglas could see he was getting absolutely nowhere.

"W-we're running ... like ye ah guess" Douglas gulped, fingering the tattered hem of his kilt.

"What do you mean running? Where are you running to?"

"We're not running TO anything man ... we're running away from something ..."

"But WHAT?" The blond man had finally had enough of these enigmas. He knew they were hiding something big. What was so bad they had to run away from it? Why did they dress so strangely? What was with the blue swirls and golden belts they claimed to be fake? Ben suspected the two of them weren't commoners like they had claimed to be. He thought a society where the common folk wore such extravagant attire had to be a very odd one indeed. He just hoped this wasn't a trick, especially since he had left his brother alone with the other one.

"We ... were tae have our lives changed. Not fer the better either"

"What were they doing to do you?"

"Betrothal"

"Huh?"

"Marriage"

Ben snorted. He wasn't sure what kinds of fiancées were so bad that two men had to physically flee from them. He looked at Douglas, wondering if it was a joke. But there was no laughter in the Scots eyes. He looked deeply sad.

"W-what was so bad? Were they ..." Ben struggled to find a word "Abusive?"

"Heather and Gavina? No. Truth be told they were probably quite nice but ... we didn't want our lives governed by them. We wanted something else"

"Which would be in the forest?"

Douglas bit his lip, aware of how ridiculous the situation seemed.

"Can't you say no?"

"Not really laddie, it's tradition see? Law"

"Silly laws if people can't choose"

"Oh they can, but not us"

"Why not?"

Douglas' emerald green eyes scanned the open grove before them, as though he were afraid something might suddenly leap out.

"Royal's aren't allowed a choice"

It took a few moments for the words to register with Ben, then his dark eyes grew wide. Before he could say anything, the scot had him pinned against a strong oak tree, a hand clamped over his mouth. Fear brimmed in his pupils as he shook his head. Ben nodded, showing he wouldn't say anything. A memory of a conversation from the night before flashed briefly in his mind again, and a feeling of dread settled heavily in his stomach. His brother had a crush on a prince. A betrothed prince. And Ben had left them alone. If he didn't get back sharpish, Bill might do something stupid - like fall in love with the other one.

Douglas slowly released his grip on the Brummie, who exhaled deeply, the breath having been knocked out of him. Well that certainly made sense. Those belts obviously weren't fake then, and Ben eyed up Douglas' jewellery eagerly. But still ... hanging out in the forest with two royals was bound to increase the bounty on their heads. As far as Ben was concerned, he and Ben should feed the princes, give them a few tips and then be on their way. They still had to reach a settlement – camping out in the woods forever wasn't an option. It was a poor one at any rate. The two needed to keep their heads down, like he'd told Bill.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The grove opened into a little lake, just as Ben had described. The Brummie set to work gathering a handful of dark blackberries from some of the first bushes, and then scurried as nimbly as a squirrel up a large tree that hung over the water's edge, and extracted some of the hanging fruit from this. He scampered back down and tucked these into his satchel.

"Whit was that thing?" Douglas asked curiously, gesturing towards the tree.

"Mulberry tree" Ben explained, handing one of the fruits over "It's pretty unusual to see one way out here, but I suppose someone must have planted one yonks ago"

Douglas nodded and sampled the fruit. It was far from the rich meaty flavours of porks and poultry that he was used to in castle life. It was sweet and earthy, and the dark juices overflowed his tongue with the sensation of a rich berry waterfall. Truly, he thought as he swallowed, a most excellent breakfast. Ben smirked at him.

"I take it that was good your highness?"

"Don't call me that" Douglas shot him a sharp look "Ye may slip up in front o' yer brother"

"Yeah yeah" Ben chuckled, half amused "You've got uh, something on your chin"

"Huh?"

"I suppose you've been wiped down since birth" Ben teased "Don't worry princey, we'll sort you out" He wiped the mulberry juice off of Douglas' chin. The prince noticed that Ben's cheeks pinked slightly as he did so, but he considered it a trick of the heat. Or ... cold. Douglas shivered.

"Now, fish" Ben walked up to the water's edge.

Douglas noticed that he had brought no rods with him, and he was puzzled. But Ben suddenly turned and stood upon a small rock that gave him a height boost enough to reach into a large hollow pine log, from which he extracted two concealed fishing rods. He also brought out a tin can, and when he had peeled back the lid Douglas could see that it was full of wriggling pink worms and a few damaged berries.

"Ok sire, your first fishing lesson I suppose?"

"Weesh with the titles lad, and no not exactly, our daw used to take us fishing in tae creek when we were wee bairns"

"I ... will take that as a yes" Ben shook his head, puzzled by the words. "But I suppose you won't need much help. The fish bite easily here so we shouldn't be too long" And with that he placed himself on a large rock near the mulberry tree and cast his line with a worm on the end. Douglas watched him for a while, and surely enough within a few minutes there was a large brown trout wriggling at the end of Ben's hook.

Douglas took one of the bruised blackberries from the can and speared it through the hook. He wasn't sure where to sit or stand - and he hated the silence that had fallen, with just the slapping of the trout on the cold rock Ben sat on. Gingerly he perched himself on the very edge of the rock and cast his line. He hoped the fish would bite soon.

"Soooo what was castle life like?" Ben asked, casting his line again.

"It was ... cosy" Douglas wriggled to seat himself more comfortably in a fishing position. "I mean ye know ... everything's done fer ye. No chores. Only there's rules. Lots of rules. And responsibilities – me an' Donnie dinnae want em"

"Still being cosy must beat being on the run ..."

Douglas squirmed more than the worm on the end of Ben's line.

"They were goin tae split me an Donnie. We've never been apart, brothers through and through – surely ye wouldnae want to be forcibly parted from Bill? Marryin' a lassie ye barely know an' ruling a kingdom fer Scotland's sake .."

Ben considered this, wrestling with another trout that had taken his bait. No ... he wouldn't want that. He and Bill had fought, but blood is thicker than water, and he felt a little more sorry for the princes than he had done before.

"Is there anything you miss?"

"Skye"

"What?"

"Me mare – bay Clydesdale – ye could live 7 lives an no see a horse as fine as she laddie. She's the sister to Donnie's horse – Glen – so naturally there's competition. Truth be told Skye's been slowin' down a bit lately, ah think ah'm overdoin' it with her treats. At least she won't get overfed now ah'm gone.." There was a sadness in Douglas' voice and face that was quite unmatched to anything Ben had ever seen. He and Bill hadn't taken horses because Ben was terrified of the creatures, and yet Douglas was genuinely upset at losing his. The Brummie watched him haul a small salmon from the lake.

"We had a group o' thoroughbred too. Ol' Jack was the leader" Douglas chuckled "He was a black an' white thoroughbred horse, and a wee bit wild still – few months ago he broke out of his stable in the dead o' night an' we didnae find him till mornin'! He'd broken through a few o' the stables an' it took a while to get em all back" Douglas chuckled "So yes, ah miss them"

"I see ... I don't have much to miss" Ben shrugged, pulling another wriggling fish in "Right, that should enough, lets head back"

Douglas rather wanted to ask more about the man's life, but he trudged after him all the same, carrying his salmon.

"And then we found ourselves here in the woods! We got cosy, found some local food sources and we've been here for a while hoping to go north, but the storm hit – the night we rescued you" Bill patted Donald's hand fondly.

The two had been chatting whilst they waited for their brother's arrival, and Bill had dressed Donald in clean dressings. The exterior wound was starting to heal already, but Donald still hurt if he moved too much. Bill had sat with him instead and explained his and Ben's story – they'd never had much of a home, and had been caught thieving a considerable amount from the market. There was a good price on their head – Bill insisted they had only ever taken enough to survive but such was law.

And Donald listened, enchanted by the way the blonde man told his tale. The bee was lively and cheeky and bouncy and full of life, and his eyes always seemed to sparkle, perhaps a little pixie like. It was kinda ... cute. Donald would kick himself for saying it out loud. He'd run away from two attractive lassies without finding either one of them particularly enticing. But he found something different in this ... small, mischievous Englishman. On the looks side he was no delicate damsel, but he made Donald laugh, not always an easy task. He'd been careful not to give the game away about him being a prince – what would Bill think of him then? He wanted to be the bee's friend, not their highness or majesty, that wasn't what any of this was about.

Just as Bill was about to speak again, Douglas and Ben returned, 4 fresh fish and a handful of berries for breakfast. The four ate happily, roasting the fish slowly over a small fire whilst Douglas marvelled in the wonderful flavours of the mulberries, and attempted to shove one into Donald's mouth before he was even able to ask a question. They were delicious he supposed.

Douglas also told him of the creek and the lake, and although Donald was sad he could not have gone, he didn't feel any regret. As he bent his head over his trout to extract a few of the bones from the spine, he cast his eyes over the top of the fire to observe Bill. He wasn't sure why, only that he wanted to look at him. And as he looked, their eyes locked accidently, for Bill apparently had also been looking. Blushing, and without saying a word to either of their brothers, they finished their breakfast in silence.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Bill was suspiciously eager to get Ben and Douglas out of the tree the next morning. Rather, as they awoke, Ben and Douglas found a satchel had already been packed for them, and Bill was happily washing yesterday's dishes in a small bowl – a job he infamously hated.

"You're unusually chirpy" Ben hissed as he slung the satchel over his back "Why don't you take Douglas to the creek today?"

Bill looked up at his brother, and smiled sweetly.

"But you seemed to have fun yesterday! Besides the quicker you go the quicker you can return"

Bill pointed vaguely in the direction of the creek.

"Off you go!"

Ben wanted to protest, but he was still half asleep, and begrudgingly agreed, leading Douglas out of the trunk.

As soon as they'd gone, Bill dropped his dishes and clambered over to the sleeping Donald, propping himself up on a small box next to the scot so he could observe him at ease. Donald was still sleeping, his ebony hair tumbling around his ivory shoulders. In the morning light, they had the sheen of a raven's wings. Bill wanted to run his hands through them, but he kept them by his side. He also had an urge to trace the sapphire swirls that adorned the Scot's torso and face, but Bill respected boundaries. He was curious though; what were the strange patterns and what did they mean? The Scots had already claimed to be simple travellers, and it was certainly true that Bill had not seen many Scottish folk, but these were excessive even for strangers.

Bill knew Ben didn't trust them, so Bill decided to take matters into his own hands. Once the scot awoke, the Brummie would question him gently and then perhaps they could find out more about these enigmatic strangers. The Brummie sighed and rested his head on his arms, trying to fight the urge to drift back off to sleep.

Donald's eyelids twitched as the prince slowly woke up. The first thing he noticed was that the pain in his ribs was dying down a little each day, and he was pleased. The second thing he noticed was Bill, who was dozing peacefully on an upturned crate next to the scot. A crack in the bark of the tree was allowing a long strand of sunlight to have fallen onto the bee's face. The glow enhanced the golden tresses, the stray hairs dancing around Bill's head like phoenix's flying forth from flames. Or, Donald smiled to himself, honey. The bee nickname was pretty cute in that sense.

Donald wasn't exactly sure what he was thinking, or rather he wasn't thinking a lot. The prince had reached out a hand absentmindedly and ... stroked Bill's hair. It was only once, and his fingers only danced vaguely over the stray hairs, but he'd still done it. Bill's hair was cool and silky to the touch, and the fly away hairs curled at Donald's touch. Bill's eyes snapped open almost instantaneously and Donald withdrew his hand quickly, hoping the bee would not realise what he had done. The bee's dark brown eyes blinked a few times, and then he smiled.

"Morning"

"M-mornin' Bill ..." Donald gulped, hoping his friend wouldn't start asking questions.

The blond man smiled cheekily and stretched.

"What uh, what were you doing just?"

 _Oh feck. Uhh._

"I just uhhh, well you see I I just just wanted to umm but you"

"Yes?" Bill batted his eyelashes a few time, and the Scotsman's cheeks darkened considerably.

"Well ah don't really know alright?" He muttered, stroking his bandages "ah was a world away ..."

"You were a bit closer than that" Bill giggled, and his friend's cheeks darkened still.

"Anyway I wanted to ask, I told you lots about me and Ben's life yesterday but you didn't tell me about yours" Bill sat on the edge of the rock Donald was lying on and blinked at him curiously, as if to prompt him to tell his tale.

Donald gulped; he wasn't sure how to get out of this one. Douglas wasn't around to help him, and neither was Bill's brother. He'd have to conduct an on the spot story that was believable enough to satisfy Bill, without leading himself into a mess that Douglas would inevitably have to clean up. But Donald didn't want to lie; he would feel as though he'd betrayed Bill in doing so.

"Well ..." The prince shifted on his slab so that he was leaning against the wall, and began his fake tale. "Me an' Donnie come from a clan in the ... mountain ranges o' Scotland. It's ... traditional for us tae wear this kind of clothing up there"

His audience smiled supportively, prompting him onwards.

"We were tasked tae take part in a special ceremony, but the thing is we weren't given any choice about it" Donald sighed, his own emotions escaping him "An' when we protested we were told we had no choice but tae follow through with tradition. So, rather than letting our futures be written fer us, we decided to ... hit the road an' try our luck down south. If they wouldn't accept us up here, perhaps we could find our means away from than clan. So now we're humble travellers"

Donald's heart beat loudly against his chest. He hadn't told any lies per say, he'd merely skirted around the real truth. That was honest enough for the secrets he had to keep.

"Well I'm sorry to hear that" Bill pouted and sympathetically patted his friend's hand.

"I-it's alright" Donald smiled weakly "We just had to get away from people we didn't want"

"Want?"

"Uh" Donald had almost slipped up about Heather and Gavina. "There were some ... complications with people ... that we didn't want"

"What kind?" Bill asked curiously. With each questioned asked, and with each answer avoided, the bee had shifted a little closer to Donald as if closing the gap would somehow bring the truth out of the scot. That was when Donald noticed the bandages, and relaxed. Bill wasn't trying to interrogate him, although it certainly felt like that. The wound under the bandages was beginning to dull, much to Donald's relief, although the bee continued to ask questions as he cleaned it. Donald tried not to wince at the cold compress, but a small yelp of pain escaped his lips never the less. Bill made a gentle shushing noise, paused for a moment, and then held Donald's hand. Neither man spoke for a while. The only sound was their breathing, and a rustling in the pine needles.

Bill dabbed gently at Donald's wound a few more times, and then applied fresh bandages. As he was returning to sit, the Brummie tripped over a small rock on the floor, and tumbled towards Donald at an alarming acceleration. He managed to grab a hold of the slab to steady himself, just in time, but he had come distressingly close to head butting his friend.

"Ye alright Bill?"

"Yeah I'm fine" The bee breathed a sigh of relief and turned to look at his friend, who was looking downwards. It was only for a split second, if that, that their lips touched. And for that split second, if that, the world seemed to freeze. Even the pine needles stopped rustling. Then, they heard a voice. Bill sprang apart from Donald quickly, a guilty look on his face as Ben entered the tree with a bulging bag of fruit and 4 fresh fish. He noticed the red faces of his companions, and frowned. His eyes scanned the trunk, and noticed a smear of blue paint on Bill's palm. The blue paint on Donald's shoulder was smudged, and having not witnessed the situation, Ben jumped to conclusions.

"Bill" Ben thrust the goodies at his brother "Why don't you help Douglas to get the fire ready? I'll see to Donald's bandages"

"But Bill already-"

Donald began to protest but Ben shot him an angry glare. It almost frightened the scot.

"Listen here" Ben hissed low enough that only Donald could here "I know who you are princey boy"

Donald gulped.

"The last thing Bill needs is a royal playboy breaking his heart"

"But I wouldn't-"

"If you and your brother want my help, leave mine alone"

Donald waited for the cheeky grin, the 'gotcha'. But Ben carried on glaring.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Ben kept to his word for weeks after that. Whenever there was a break that Donald and Bill might possibly be alone in, Ben was there. He tried to swap morning jobs with his brother, but the uncomfortable silence between him and Donald was somehow more unnerving than the thought of Bill getting up to mischief with him. Ben normally loved mischief, but not when it placed an emotional burden on his brother. He also began to worry whether Bill would transfer his affections to Douglas, which was a scenario just as bad. In the end, Ben arranged a morning routine where they'd tend to Donald first thing, and then all three of them would go fishing. That way there was no possible window for Bill to be able to try and kiss the prince again, or anything of that regard. Bill – and his heart, Ben thought to himself – were quite safe. The only problem now was that fishing in the morning was quieter than usual, as Ben knew he could no longer ask questions to Douglas about castle life, and Bill seemed reluctant to talk to either of them. Ben assured himself that he was making the right decision, and that all of this really would be worth the potential of a broken heart or two.

If the princes had been regular travellers, Ben doubted very much he'd care. But Bill couldn't love Donald, not if he were a prince, that price was far too high. Donald was very nearly healed, and soon the bees would continue their plot to escape the island. The Scots would be able to fend for themselves by this point and hopefully Bill would forget all about his infatuations. This is the way Ben saw things. The other three didn't seem to agree.

Ben had been washing clothes outside the trunk, hanging them off one of the low tree branches so they could dry in the wind, and the occasional bursts of sun that came through the leaves. He'd been tackling a particularly resistant mud stain on Douglas' top when the prince approached him. Since the Scots had fled without packing, they only had one change of clothes. Donald's didn't matter as much since he hadn't been able to walk much further than just outside of the trunk, and wasn't currently wearing his top due to the bandages. Douglas tended to wash his kilt in the stream along with himself, and had gone a peculiar colour when Ben had asked why he didn't just hand it over along with the rest of wash day's stuff. Most of the blue paint had come off of both of the Scots; only the vague outline of the paint could still be seen on their skin. Douglas had washed most of his off in the stream and Donald had had buckets of clean water brought to him to keep sanitary.

"Oi Benny" Douglas said rather abruptly, standing over the Brummie.

Ben guessed what the scot was about to talk to him about, and continued calmly washing, not looking up or answering.

"Just cause ye know about us doesnae give ye the right tae make Donald miserable"

Ben continued to wash, purposely taking his time.  
"Ah know we may be ... different on the outside where we come from, and ye know none o' us asked tae be in this situation. But if we're all in it we may as well be in it together"

Ben held the top out of the water, ringing it as slowly as possible, looking nonchalantly at the water droplets that rang off it.

"Ben listen" Douglas soundly steely.

He hadn't sounded like this before, and although Ben was not afraid, he reasoned with himself that he should probably pay attention at last. Hanging the top on the branch to dry, the bee finally turned to his friend, trying to look at casual as possible. It wasn't so easy. Douglas was standing with his hands on his hips, one eyebrow raised in offense. If Ben had focused solely on his face, perhaps his lips would not have twitched. Since Ben had just washed Douglas' only one, the scot was shirtless. Ben wouldn't have been particularly bothered; Donald had been shirtless for weeks. Only he had a bandage on and was generally more of a patient in Ben's eyes. Douglas on the other hand, was far from looking feeble. Actually he was rather ... well Ben didn't want to say the word handsome - that was a trap in itself. But definitely... well built. Ifff you were into that sort of thing you may have said 'hot'. Which totally didn't pass through Ben's mind - but if it had he would be denying it fiercely.

"Well don't tell me you haven't seen how they act" Ben covered the crack in his voice with a cough. "It's ... dangerous Douglas. We both know that"

Douglas licked his lips nervously, crossing his arms. Ben wished he'd put them back on his hips, but quickly scolded himself mentally for it.

"It's nae ... ideal no man. But what will be will be ... an' yer not the one who has any right tae get between it"

"Someone has to" Ben shrugged. "Otherwise when the time comes you'll be the one they both blame"

"But ye know about it too laddie"

"Yes but unlike SOME I'm being sensible and trying to stop it" Ben glared up at him "We both know it's not right"

"But why not? We ran away didn't we? An' neither of us intend on goin' back so if anythin' we're just the same as you"

The Brummie gave him a look that was half condescending and half genuine sympathy.

"You might have run away, you might have lived rough with us all this ... time" It had been so long none of the four really knew how long they'd been gone "But no matter how hard you try to deny it, you are and always will be princes. And we'll always be the scum on your shoes. That's why"

Ben grabbed the soaking top off of the branch and threw it at a rather startled Douglas.

"There's a bit too much princeliness for our common eyes to handle" Ben sneered "You don't want me trying to separate you and Bill before you try and seduce him too"

Douglas blinked, something welling up in his eyes. He'd approached Ben to make friends, not enemies.

"Ben ah ... ah have no intention of doin' that. Neither does ma brother. We just wanna be your friends"

"Your brother seems to have a bit more than friendship on his mind" Ben sniffed.

"Well ... neither of us intended that originally" Douglas sighed, ringing out his still sodden top some more "But ye know ah always believed love was a thing that couldn't be helped"

"Oh spare me the fairy tales this is real life" Ben jumped to his feet "And real life doesn't have happy endings, haven't you worked that out? The silver platters only last in the castle, that's where fairy tales are held. It's wolves you find in the woods. Ugly wolves that lie and steal and cheat and defiantly do NOT end up living happily ever after with the handsome prince" Ben turned sharply on his heel, kicking over the wash bucket and causing Douglas to jump.

"Benny wait!-"

The Brummie didn't listen, he was storming furiously into the trunk, and then he stopped dead in his tracks. He'd allowed too much time between Donald and Bill, and his worst fears had come true. Although they'd broken apart almost instantly as Ben had entered, the bee had seen enough. There was no way the closed distance between their lips was accidental.

"Ben! I was just about to-"

"Don't you dare lie to me Bill! Haven't I already told you not to?"

"Ben for goodness sake" Bill was shaking, his fists clenched "They're not going to hurt us, they're our friends"

"Some FRIENDS you are" the bee was glaring between both of the blushing men "REAL good friends"

"W-well so what?" Bill was practically nose to nose with his brother, and both looked as angry as the other felt "It's not like I'm trying to hurt you! Sometimes things just ... happen! Maybe they happen for a reason, maybe they don't! But you can't change it!"

"B-but it's wrong because –"

Ben locked eyes with Douglas, who had just ran in, now wearing his sodden top. Ben would have been quite happy to betray Donald's secret, to watch the lovers collapse and to have a satisfied smirk of 'I told you so' on his face. But he couldn't. He couldn't betray Douglas. Only heavens know why, he couldn't bring himself to see the disappointment in those eyes.

"Because I'm not good enough for anyone? Is that it?"

The Brummie was suddenly back in the room, his angry twin staring him down.

 _"_ _ _Because we're WOLVES Bill"__ Ben blurted out suddenly, before turning again on his heel, and running past Douglas into the thick bracken beyond the trunk.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Ben had not returned many hours later. The other three sat in an awkward silence for most of the day, unsure of what to say to one another. All any of them had on their mind was Ben, and where he might be. They'd expected the bee to have his tantrum and return within an hour or so, but by now the horizon had turned pink, and then blue. Finally, it was pitch black, and the Scots and Bill huddled around a small campfire, occasionally taking turns to throw foliage onto the blaze. Bill and Donald sat huddled under the only blanket available, and Bill rested his head on the other's shoulder, his chocolate brown eyes staring into the depths of the burning wood, large and shiny with tears. The occasional sniffle, crackling embers, pine needles rustling underfoot and an owl hooting somewhere was the only noise. Douglas sat alone on the opposite side, holding onto his own shoulders for warmth.

There was a rustle from a nearby bush, and all three looked over, lips sucked in the anticipation of the 'B' for Ben. A fox crawled ou, staring warily at the fire and the three strangers in his territory. He blinked slowly, and then turned back into the undergrowth, the white tip off his tail trailing into the blackberry bushes. The princes and Bill all let out a collective sigh of disappointment.

"Do ye think one o' us should go after him?" Douglas asked at last, rubbing his arm nervously.

"Yes ... I don't know what got into Ben today, but I want to know that my brother's ok" Bill sounded resolute, and he was glaring fiercely at the fire, as if expecting to find his twin hidden in the flames.

"Ah'm fairly sure he'd run away if he saw me" Donald sighed and rubbed the back of his neck "Ah don't wanna anger him further"

"You did nothing wrong" Bill said firmly, gently patting Donald's ribs "Besides you need to rest"

"Ah'm fine Billy, it only hurts if ah turn too sharply ... but ah still dinnae want tae risk the lad runnin' awa more ..."

"I'll go, he's my brother after all" Bill sat up straight "I'm not hanging about here whilst a wild beast rips him to pieces"

"If ah wild beast rips him to pieces ah doubt you'd be able to fend it off" Donald said gently, patting the Brummie's back fondly "Ah know yer worried about yer twin but ..." He faltered a little, but Bill seemed to get the message because he sighed sadly and slumped back onto the Scot's shoulder.

"Ah'll go" Douglas stood up "Whether he runs off or not. An' ah can handle any wild critters"

"Are ye sure?" Donald looked up "Ah don't want to lose ma brother"

"I promise there's been enough twins lost for today" Douglas smiled "Ah'll bring him home before mornin'" The scot dusted soot from his kilt as he stood up and made his way in the same direction Ben had gone, leaving Donald and Bill by the fire.

It was even more silent with Douglas gone, but the two remaining minded it less. Donald had his arms wrapped around Bill and his chin on the Brummie's head. Bill was leaning against the Scot's chest, watching the bracken anxiously, waiting for either his twin or Donald's to return. Preferably both. Donald must have sensed the bee's unease because he tried to comfort him.

"Don't ye worry Billy, he'll bring yer brother back. Dougie's nae a fool"

"True" Bill agreed, blowing at his fringe "But Ben can be"

Douglas had been going around in circles, he was sure of it. True, he couldn't see an awful lot, but he doubted there were THAT many silhouettes of broken trees. The prince wasn't scared of the forest itself, but he was rather unnerved by the fact he fancied seeing eyes everywhere. He wasn't sure what creatures lurked in these woods, especially at night. If they were eyes he hoped they belonged to rabbits or deer. He tried to push thoughts of wolves and bears aside, and continued onwards grimly.

Right there was that broken tree again. He'd been left, he'd been right. Either way he seemed to come straight back to it. Douglas examined the height. He'd have to take a run, but the Scot could probably clear it. He stepped back a few paces from the tree, and launched himself over the trunk. He landed roughly, stumbled forwards a few paces, and tripped over one of the upturned roots. He swore crossly, rubbing his ankle, but then he held his breath. He could hear a noise nearby. Oh help this was it. Douglas McIntosh had lived a good life; he hoped his family and Skye would remember him fondly. He closed his eyes tightly, waiting to feel claws against his skin. There were no claws. And that sound wasn't exactly a threatening growl. More like ... a sniffle. A human sniffle. Douglas crept cautiously over to the source of the noise, and parted the bracken. On the floor, illuminated by what little moonlight shone through, Ben sat - and he was crying.

"Ben?"

The Brummie's head shot up instantly, and a look of fear flashed across it before he realised who it was.

"D-Douglas?"

"Ay laddie, it's me" Douglas glanced at the thorny ground, but sighed and settled himself next to the bee.

Ben stiffened at first, but after a few moments he relaxed, resting his head on his knees and looking exhausted. Douglas watched him, waiting for the bee to say something. To cry some more, to scream, shout. But Ben turned his head away, his shoulders shaking as he tried to contain sobs.

"Benny ... it's late. Ye ought to come back. Yer brother an' Donnie miss ye"  
Ben sniffed again.

"It's not that simple ... neither will talk to me again after that ..."

"Of course they will Ben, they're worried about ye"

"That'd be a first" Ben snorted.

"Ah mean it" Douglas reached round and tilted Ben's head by the chin so the Brummie was facing him. Ben darted his eyes to anywhere that wasn't the Scot's; the trees, the floor, the sky.

"Ben ... if ah hadnea have told ye that me an' Donnie were princes, would ye still hate us so?"

Ben kept his gaze on a small pinecone.

"I ... I don't hate you" He stammered, squirming a little in the Scotsman's grip.

"Then why do you act like it?" Douglas' voice was calm and unjudging, but the friendliness made Ben feel even worse.

"Because I don't want to see Bill get hurt again"

"Again?"

Slowly, Ben took his eyes away from the pinecone, and lifted them to meet his friends.

"Again" He gulped, and began to twiddle his thumbs together nervously "We grew up in an orphanage. Whether we're actually orphans we don't know. I seem to remember our parents dropping us off but the memory is so hazy ... perhaps I just thought they were. Our first two years were fine, we had a matron that looked after us, and she'd slip us extra honey on our bread on the side, and she took a particular shine to Bill and me, although somehow I think she favoured Bill more" Ben laughed slightly, but it was strained "He's always been more easy going, even if he takes the lead a lot. Anyway, the matron was quite old and one night she ... took a trip somewhere. She didn't return. The new matron was VILE" The bee's nose screwed up in disgust at the memory "and worse still she had a weasel little son. He used to steal our food and blame any accidents he caused on the orphanage children and the matron believed him"

"Ah can't imagine he was very popular then" Douglas inquired sympathetically.

"Not with most of us no. But for some reason he less obnoxious to Bill. Truth be told I ... at the time I thought he was playing a trick but I think he must have liked him ... like really. Anyway his favouritism didn't go unnoticed, and it turned most of the orphanage against us – including me, who was just as despised by him anyway! And then" Ben shut his eyes, trying to cover a tear that had welled up "One night some of the orphanage kids snuck into our dormitory in the middle of the night. Their ring leader was the matron's son. Turned out she'd beaten him and he'd suddenly changed his mind about favouring Bill. They'd collected mildly offensive weapons – kitchen rollers, that sort of thing. I truly think if I hadn't grabbed Bill and ran ... well I don't know what they would have done" Ben's whole body shook with the memory "Bill was still half asleep, he never knew about it ... but after that we became the bees. We didn't have much choice – it was stealing or starving. But we couldn't live like that forever, we had to escape. I suggested going overseas. Finally, we'd have our freedom, a fresh start, and I'd make sure no one tried to hurt my brother again. T-then you two turn up. Bill falls for Donald and it's the matrons' son all over again. Only this time it won't be bullies turning up will it?"

Douglas allowed the story to wash over him like a rough wave. He could see where Ben was coming from, and if they were found the kings men would be worse than a couple of orphanage kids. But Douglas knew that neither he nor Donald intended to hurt the bees the way those kids had done. But Ben wasn't going to see that until they proved it. And that wouldn't happen until Ben let them all be friends.

"Ben ah can see why ye've been ... protective o' yer brother. If ah were in yer shoes ah reckon ah just be the same" Douglas sighed forlornly "But if ye let us, ah promise me an' Donnie will look after yer brother, not hurt him. We'll look out fer ye too – if ye let us"

Ben considered his friends words for a while, before slowly nodding.

"I'll come back ... a-and try and make it up to Bill and Donald" Pause "Would you really look out for my brother?"

"Fer you too"

"Ah I'm no one important"

"Ben"

"Douglas"

A moment passed between them. Not awkwardly. Playfully. Like they were daring each other to do something. Like their lips were getting closer ...

And then Douglas let go of Ben's chin, and both men stood up. They made their way back together, and Ben began to rehearse his apology in his head. Douglas chuckled and offered to help, so long as he was payed in mulberries. As they neared their tree, Douglas slowed down. So much so that Ben crashed into him.

"What's wrong Do-"

"Shh" The scot frowned. "The fire's gone out ..."

"So?"

"Of course it's quiet, it's the middle of the night, they're probably asleep"

Douglas shook his head.

"They were waiting fer us Benny, they'd nae have just drifted"

"We were quite a while" Ben sighed "Look I'm sure they just dozed off and forgot about the fire. Bill! Donald! I'm back!" The Brummie pushed past the prince into the clearing.

"Ben no-" Douglas began to hiss, but it was too late.

Out of nowhere, two figures sprang forth and wrestled the unsuspecting bee to the ground.

"What the?!" Ben spat out a pile of needles "Unhand me!"

"One of the infamous bees? Oh no" One of the strangers cackled "You've got a sentence ahead of you"

"We're placing you and your brother under arrest"

"Bill!" Ben squirmed harder, but he couldn't fight off the officers, or their handcuffs.

Douglas looked around in a panic, wondering whether to help Ben or find his brother. Unfortunately he didn't have enough time to make a decision, because someone he hadn't spotted suddenly grabbed him by the arm and hauled him out into the clearing.

"Well well, if it isn't Douglas!" A booming voice called out, and the prince's heart sank. "Ah think ye and yer brother have some unfinished business. Less o' this nonsense, we're heading straight up tae the castle"

Douglas looked up into his father's light blue eyes, acknowledging defeat.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

The walk up to the castle was a silent one. What was there to say? The princes certainly felt they had nothing to apologise for. Both of them were too deep in worry for their English friends to care. Jail was one sentence, but the brothers hoped it wouldn't be worse. Especially since they'd been caught harbouring royalty and, if what the one policeman had said were true, if taken into Scottish custody would be charged with treason. And the punishment for that was far worse than a few years behind jail. Neither Scot could look each other in the eye with this thought.

Donald was especially close to tears. He and Bill had seen the bushes rustling and Bill had leapt up ready to welcome his twin back with open arms. Instead Bill was greeted by a hard boot and handcuffs. Donald had done his best to prize the men off him, but his ribs were still tender. Shortly afterwards, Calum and some noblemen had arrived and demanded to know the whereabouts of Douglas' location. Donald and Bill could only watch from opposite ends of their camp till the others arrived. And of course, finding out Donald was a prince has certainly sapped his spirits. Donald remembered the look in Bill's eyes. Confusion, hurt, betrayal.

The walk though the castle grounds was not as silent. But it was worse, because the silence was broken by whispering. Gossip, and Douglas thought he heard one woman snigger with a comment about the humiliation the Scottish princes had brought on themselves.

Maggie greeted her sons at the door, her arms folded. There was no anger or hatred in her eyes. Just cold, hard disappointment. Both twins had to look at the floor, for it was the most welcoming place to look right now. They waited for their berating, but none came. Just stony silence. A crow cawed loudly from one of the turrets.

"Inside" Maggie said at last, and the princes did as they were told, feeling like toddlers who had just been scolded for playing in the mud.

"So ye thought campin' out in tae woods would be a good enough hidin' spot?" Maggie frowned "The woods close tae the castle? Ye had long enough to escape did ye not"

"Donald was hurt" Douglas said quietly, still refusing to meet his parent's eyes. "We couldn't have gone far"

"Ye wouldn't have been hurt if ye just stayed put like we told ye too!" Calum made a noise of exclamation.

"Or if it hadnea been stormy" Donald muttered, remembering how the lightning had caused the tree to fall. The image of the bees coming to his rescue flashed across his mind "How did ye find us?"

"Ironically those little friends of yours gave ye away" Calum levelled his gaze between them "Couple o' Englishmen came to the castle and said they'd tracked tae 'bees' near the woods, and asked if we'd seen them. We said nae - an' that we were worried about our missin' sons and they offered to help look for ye two as well. Ye being all in one place was nae coincidence was it?"

"Nae" Donald's fists clenched "They helped us. A tree fell on me – thats' why we couldnae move fer weeks. Those two helped me - where are they?"

Maggie and Calum looked at each other. There was a mix of emotions on their face. On the one hand, the bees were sought after thieves, and had been caught harbouring missing royalty. This was treason, and the gallows wouldn't be far behind. However, if it was true that they had helped the princes, they owed them a personal thank you. But what did it matter when it was only circumstance – the bees would have been caught regardless and the Scots were intent on running away anyway. Now both were where they belonged in the eyes of the law, and the princes still had an important duty to attend to.

"Get washed you too and come fer dinner in the hall. Heather and Gavina have been informed of yer return, and ye shall be wed tomorrow"

Both princes began to protest immediately, but their mother shut them off quickly by demanding the instructions.

"The last two months are inconsequential" Maggie continued, turning away from them and beginning to head up the stairs towards her room "Ye two shall be wed by this time tomorrow"

Douglas towelled his hair dry and sat down on his bed with a heavy sigh. It seemed so odd to be back in his room, with all of his things. The prince crossed the room to his drawers, where a drawing he'd done as a child was still propped up on a board. It was an amateurish blob version of him and Donald standing in a meadow, smiling. A weird black thing at the bottom of the page was probably child Douglas' impression of the dip. It always made Douglas smile – not for the penmanship, but because he could still feel the happiness radiating from that picture. A droplet landed on top of blob Donald's face, and Douglas hastened to return it to the desk unless it was ruined.

Donald was being an unusually long time in the bathroom. His brother didn't blame him; Donald had, in some ways, a lot more to lose. Douglas felt guilty for not protecting Ben when he'd realised something was amiss, but he knew deep down that capture at that point was inevitable. The prince stroked the wooden post of his bed, before leaning on it to stare out the window. The full moon shone bright and imposing, the stars next to it twinkling mischievously. Only a few days ago they had all sat under those stars together around a campfire. The last two and three quarter months (which they'd found to be exact) had been some of the happiness since childhood. They didn't need riches or crowns to be happy. The company was enough. Douglas recounted the events before their capture, replotting it in his head so that they'd all be safe. He blushed as he remembered how he'd almost kissed Ben. Why he wasn't sure. A spur of the moment perhaps, maybe because the Brummie had opened up to him. Douglas remembered going fishing, and the mulberries. Douglas loved the mulberries. His hand involuntarily strayed up to the spot on his chin where Ben had touched to wipe away some of the mulberry juice. Oh yes, if Douglas couldn't change any of the other events, he wished he could have kissed the bee.

Oh yes, he had a lot to think about, and Donald was still occupied so he decided to go to the stables. Skye would be a little comfort, thought Douglas. He hadn't seen her for too long. The moon lit the path down to the stables, and Glen nickered with surprise to see the prince. Douglas rubbed his nose fondly.

"Not Donnie man, he'll be down soon"

The ebony Clydesdale nickered as if to say 'thank goodness'. Douglas moved around to a stall further behind, and found his bay mare with her head buried in a bag of feed. She was distinctly larger than the last time he'd left her, and Douglas remembered telling Ben how he wouldn't be around to overfeed her. But Skye was loved by the children of the clan, and often snuck treats from them till Douglas stopped her. The prince rolled his eyes, and softly called her name. The mare's head shot up and once and she plodded over, her ears pricked.

"Hello lassie" Douglas smiled, rubbing her face, scratching her ears and patting her neck in all her favourite places. Skye certainly looked happy to see him back, and she pushed her nose against her rider's palm, demanding attention.

"It's been a rough few weeks" Douglas said out loud, possibly to his mare, as he hugged nose softly "Ah know ye'll understand why we did it"

"Well then, I hope you won't mind telling me"

Both Douglas and his mount turned their head to the right to see Finlay O'Sullivan enter the stable, a broom in his hand.

"Finlay!" Douglas grinned, for he had missed his Irish tongued friend.

"Ol' Finlay's got your secrets covered" His dark eyes glimmered from under his cap "What was all o' this about two bees? You two chose harvesting honey over your fiancé?"

"Nae" The prince chuckled, but it was a sad sound "Couple of laddies from Birmingham" and before he knew what he was doing, Douglas had told the stable hand everything. And Finlay listened, occasionally rubbing the back of his neck.

"So whit de ye think we should do now?" Douglas said, feeling all but defeated.

"If those two men mean that much to you, I'd say follow your heart"

"But whit does that mean?"

"You won't know until you listen" Finlay's bronze lips twitched into a brief smile "Also there's something ye should know about Skye" He pointed to the mare "No doubt that's escaped your notice?"

"Those kids have overdone it with the carrots haven't they?"

"Maybe a little" The stable hand chuckled "But that's not all. Remember how Old Jack broke out of the stables a few months ago?"

"Ah told that story to Ben" Douglas began to laugh, but it trailed off as he remembered how much he was missing him.

"Douglas, Skye's pregnant. Congratulations!"

"Hey man" Douglas patted his brother's shoulder gently. Donald didn't flinch. His fists were balled tightly in his lap, and he was running a small piece of brown fabric between his fingers. Douglas thought it looked similar to the material Bill's waist coat had been made of, but he decided not to ask about it.

"Wanna talk about it man?" Douglas gulped. Donald shrugged, so Douglas tried a different topic to get his brother's attention.

"Skye's pregnant" Donald's head jerked a little, and he looked interested for a moment, then he drooped again. Douglas gave up. He didn't feel like talking much either, but it would have been better than the ongoing silence.

"Ah'll no let the gallows get em" Donald spoke out of the blue, his eyes fixed hard on the window. The piece of fabric in his hands fell to the floor "Dougie ah swear this isnae the end"

Douglas thought his brother was being overly optimistic for the situation, but his heart was hoping the same thing.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

The chiming of the bells did little to stir Prince Donald. He was staring sadly at the far wall, but his eyes weren't focused on anything in particular. He was yet again adorned in blue swirls, although the painters had placed some under the Scots' eyes to cover the dark marks that lay underneath. Both of the brothers also had a wreath of softened thistles to symbolise their loyalty to their home country, as tradition.

The night before the wedding, Donald hadn't had any sleep. How could he? Every time he closed his eyes the image of Bill flashed across his mind. His twinkling eyes, his cheeky grin. And then the night seemed to drag on even longer.

Douglas was much the opposite. He'd slept a little longer than Donald, although still only two hours maximum. But he was jittery. He hopped from foot to foot, paced forwards and backwards along the upper aisle and fiddled with the fringing on his sporran. Neither spoke much to each other. They knew if they did, they'd only cry. Or worse.

The guests filled in slowly, giving the two princes encouraging smiles that neither reciprocated. The hall had been improved since the last wedding rehearsal. There were almost twice as many pearly banners and the arch had had a fresh bouquet woven into it of thistles, roses and small pink and white flowers. Maggie had tried explaining that they represented purity and fertility and other standard wedding symbols, but she knew in her eyes and heart that neither son was listening. She was hoping that her sons would have recovered once the weight of their responsibilities sunk back into them. But they had been the ones that had chosen to run away in the first place. In the time it had taken for them to run away, both sons could now be settled into happy marriages, have extensive kingdoms, doubled their wealth, and announced a pregnancy. Calum and Maggie sighed together. Why their sons couldn't see how much better all that would have been than spending two months in the wilderness with two criminals was beyond them.

But as they figured, life goes on. The princes had learnt their lesson. After today it would go back to how it should have been, and in time all of the antics would have been quite forgotten. What would happen to the bees wasn't the concern of the rest of the McIntosh clan. If those two had truly wanted to help the princes, they would have handed them back. They had not, and that in the eyes of the king and queen, was enough to clear their conscious temporarily.

The pianist began his traditional wedding march tune, and Douglas finally stopped his hopping, although his eyes still swivelled around all four corners of the room. Donald still refused to move. Although everyone was politely ignoring it, there was no denying that the older McIntosh prince was broken. Everyone merely assumed his new bride would heal that.

The doors opened with a confident creak as the two women the Scots had run away from in the first place began to slowly walk down the aisle, accompanied either side by their fathers. All eyes were on them. To the outside eye, and perhaps as a backhand grunt for the Scots, the girls did look beautiful. Heather was adorned in traditional Galloway gear; her flaming locks had been scraped back into a messy bun, and clasped with an intricate silver band. Her green tartan dress highlighted her heritage and set her tanned skin off beautifully in the sunlight that streamed through the open rafters at the top of the chamber. Gavina was wearing a white dress, which showed off the contrast of her dark locks against her pearly white skin, and her hair which tumbled mostly loosely about the shoulders had two plaits tied with a ribbon of McClure tartan.

Because of their absence, the clan leaders had decided amongst themselves who were to marry. They had decided that Donald's fiery nature would best be matched into the strong Galloway clan, and that compassionate Douglas would be a kind husband and ruler of the McClure's. The two women were brought forth to their fiancées and stood awkwardly before them. The officiator lead the four through the vows, as all four nodded and agreed at agreed at appropriate times, although uncertain.

"Do ye, Heather Galloway, take this man tae be yer lawfully wedded husband?"

"Ah ... do"

She sounded reluctant. Donald found that he was not entirely surprised. He and his twin had run away from the girls, how the clans thought this was a good start to a marriage was beyond him.

"Do ye, Donald McIntosh, take this woman tae be yer lawfully wedded wife?"

"Ah ... ah ..." The prince gulped, stumbling over his words.

 _C'mon Donnie. Two little words. Then it's all over._

Of course that wasn't true, and the prince knew it. But it had to be done. It had to be start. It was his Bill. Uh, his fate. Yes, fate. Two little words. Just a quick 'I Bill' would do. No, dammnit 'I will'.

 _C'mon Donald git a GRIP man-_

"Ah don't"

The words escaped his lips before he knew he'd said them. A collective gasp rolled around the gathering chamber, and the prince could feel the burning stare of his parents, and of Heather's, scorching the back of his neck.

The officiator blinked, unsure of whether to turn to the next couple or coax the prince into saying yes. He turned to the leaders.

"Yer supposed to say 'ah DO'" Calum hissed at his son.

"Ah-" Donald was about to comply, when he realised that he held the power here. He'd already shocked the clans. Now they were hanging on, he had the words.

"Ah don't" He repeated, louder. He straightened up; the gleam of passion in his eyes once more.

"It's true ma brother an' I ran away. It's true we ran from these girls"

A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd, and Donald heard the thump of an unfortunate woman's body hitting the floor. But he had the effect he desired, they were listening to him at last. Calum started to make his way towards the prince, but the officiator halted him. Donald had the right to speak.

"The night we escaped, ah got caught under a tree tryin' tae save ma brother. If it wasnae for two people, ah'd probably still be under there ... but not in a good way" Donald shivered, trying to push back the memories of the crushing weight "Those two helped us, an' me. At any opportunity they could have given us in, or left us to struggle. But they didnae. An' in return ye all turned yer backs on them like cowards cause all ye cared about was the weddin' we never wanted"

Douglas coughed, and Donald thought he heard a laugh of agreement hidden in the sound.

"Gettin' married is one thing, leavin' a friend behind is another" Donald took a deep breath, bracing himself "but watchin' someone ye love be taken away is another"

A much larger wave of emotions undulated through the crowd. Donald dared not look back at the clan leaders, but he could feel the frown lines without seeing them.

"Ah never cared fer the responsibilities of marriage. Ah'd rather renounce ma crown if ye'll let me save Bill"

And with his final announcement, Donald took his wreath from his head. Several of the guests began to get to their feet, but the officiator sat them down with a stern hand. Douglas broke rank from next to Gavina and put a supportive arm around his twin.

"Fer what it's worth ... ah'd give it up tae save the bees too" The princes turned to the princess' apologetically.

To their great surprise, the girls laughed, after only a moment of looking shocked. Gavina hitched her dress above her ankles and ran across the platform into Heather's arms, where the strong Galloway princess lifted her with ease.

"After ye two had disappeared we didnae have much company" Heather laughed.

"But she turned out to be great fun" Gavina giggled, her eyes sparkling "And there's still a wedding on"

"Why waste a cake right?" Heather chuckled "If ye do"

"Ah do!" Gavina nodded fervently as she kissed the Galloway princess. The officiator shrugged, tossed his book aside, and released the doves as the crowd exploded between happy whoops and confused yelling. In the commotion, Douglas and his brother were pulled aside by a familiar face.

"Finlay!" Douglas beamed "Ah li-"

"No time young princes!" The stablehand cut him off "You must go quickly!" He nodded towards the doors. "Save your wasps"

"Bees" Donald laughed, already fighting through the side of the crowd towards the exit.

Douglas hung back to thank his friend again, but as he turned to go Finlay reminded him that horse would be the fastest route to the prison.

"But not in Skye's condition – take Ol' Jack instead"

Douglas nodded, shook his friends hand and then fought the crowd to the exit as well.

"Care to join me on an adventure, brother?" Donald beamed, looking more himself than he had done in the past two days.

"Riskin' life an' status to save a couple o' troublemakers? Sounds good" The second prince chuckled. "Ach, we owe 'em one fer helping ye out with tae tree anyway"


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Fast, Ol'Jack certainly was. He didn't have the strength of Skye, and ploughing through low foliage proved to be considerably more difficult than when riding a Clydesdale. But on the open moors the thoroughbred tore so far ahead of Glen that Douglas occasionally had to stop to allow his brother to keep up.

Donald recalled the badges on the policemen's uniforms, and told Douglas the name of the jail as they rode side by side over a section of particularly barren moorland. Pinehills Prison. On the surface that sounded like a scout camp the Scots would have participated in as kids. In the back of both of their minds they half imagined the prisoners sitting around a campfire, singing songs and telling ghost stories. The reality of course, was far from this image. But it had been pleasant enough whilst it lasted. Donald had also gained a sense of where the jail was located from some of the policemen, who's conversations he'd evesdropped on. Pinehill's prison was directly southwest of their own castle, so long as they followed the path that skirted around the outside of the forest they'd just been in, they'd make it. They had to make it. They had to save the bees.

The two princes eventually rode up to the side of a crumbling old building. Deep cracks were etched into the stone walls and a few derelict flowerpots lay on their sides, overgrown with weeds. A sombre atmosphere hung around the place, and Donald even shivered, stating that he didn't trust the place, through gritted teeth.

They tied Glen and Jack on the post at the front of the prison and stared at the front door. Its two vertical windows were blackened and made the inside seem ominous and eerie.

"Ah say we try an' find tae cell before we go in" Douglas whispered, thinking strategically as he pulled Donald back from marching up the stairs. "Then we know where they're keeping em if we ... have tae change the plan"

Donald was bristling ready for a fight, but he knew that his twin spoke the truth. They wanted to do this fairly, but Donald was willing to put up a fight. It would be wise to at least know where he had to take the fight.

The two scouted around the edges of the prison, listening into cells and occasionally peering between the bars. A few cells were empty or contained other prisoners (The Scots ducked away from these ones pretty quickly.) After scouring one half of the building, Donald suggested trying the other, and Douglas agreed. Unfortunately the second half of the building produced no results, and Donald began to panic about the fate of the Brummies.

Douglas put an arm around his brother's shoulder and suggested that it would be good time to go inside and ask. They were making their way towards the front when he noticed a window that was a little higher than the others, hidden behind a tree branch from their original vantage point. With a boost, they could get to it.

"Donnie, lift me up"

"Huh? Whit on earth fer man?"

Douglas pointed to the window. His brother looked sceptical. Of all the window's they'd already scouted, this one looked the least obvious. But Donald would do anything for Bill, and so he agreed to give his twin a leg up onto the higher ledge.

The cell directly under the high window was empty, and Douglas sighed in defeat. He was about to jump down when he heard a familiar voice, talking with a familiar west midlands accent. He held his breath and listened through the bars of the window. The sound was coming from a cell along the back wall where the Scots could not access from the outside.

"You think I would have CARED that he was a prince?"

That was Bill alright, Douglas gave a thumbs up to his brother, who's eyes lit up instantly. Then the prince turned his attention to the window again.

"Absolutely – we should have left them the second he got better. Him being a prince is what got us into this mess in the first place!"

Yup, classic Ben. Both the bees were alive at least.

"Ben you know that isn't true!" Bill was protesting "We were wanted anyway ..."

"But we wouldn't have been found if we hadn't helped them! We had plans remember" Ben hit something that sounded like a metal bed frame "We were fleeing north and the overseas to Europe remember! That would have been a good life" Ben sighed, sounded half remorseful half dejected "Right now we could be sipping wine out of crystal glasses with pretty girls on our arms"

There was a small pause between the brothers.

"I didn't want that" Bill's voice shook, as though it was on the verge of breaking "I wanted Donald ..."

Ben didn't reply to this.

"Tell me Ben ... and you might as well since we won't be here tomorrow – if you knew about their royalty then what stopped you from turning them in? You could have traded them in, but you didn't. You hated Donald, but you protected them"

There was a muffled response from the other bee that sounded like his face was pressed into a pillow.

"Huh?" Bill probed the question again.

"I said Douglas was __bloody hot__ "

Douglas was almost sure he could hear Bill's blinking before the bee burst into a fit of giggles.

"Shut up" Ben giggled weakly before his laughs turned into sobs."Bill if I could go back ... I think I would have told you. What good it would have done, I'm not sure" He sighed "I was right all along. Wolves never do get their happy ending"

"Princes do"

Neither bee spoke after that, and so Douglas quietly clambered down from the window, still blushing slightly from Ben's words.

"They're alive" He nodded "Back cell. Now let's go in"

Donald's jumper was stirring slightly as though his heart was beating loudly against his chest, but he had a look of grim determination.

The reception was a small, dimly lit room where a single man sat on a grubby leather chair, casually gorging himself on a plate of assorted foods, occasionally aiming left over bones and cores at a bin in the corner. The mess surrounding the bin suggested the man did not have the greatest aim. It was an unusual greeting sight, but the Scots ventured up to the desk regardless.

"Hello there sir" Donald spoke loudly, but his voice quavered "We've come tae negotiate the release of two of yer prisoners"

The prison guard slowly finished his chicken leg, before tossing it casually at the bin – where it missed – and then looked up at the princes, unimpressed.

"Is that so?"

"Aye" Donald frowned, looming over the guard in order to display his assertiveness. "Tae bees"

"My good sir this is a jail not an insect farm" The guard causally tossed a few mulberries into his greasy gob. Douglas winced at the memory of picking those with Ben.

"Bill an' Ben Bagnall" Donald smirked.

"Oh those two" The guard sighed deeply, rolling his chair across the floor to a stack of papers. He produced one which had the warrant for the bees and rolled back over to the front desk. "Ah, these two are sentenced to the gallows at dusk" He tutted, berry juice dribbling down his chin.

"Not anymore" Donald smirked and folded his arms confidently "We've come fer em"

The guard eyed Donald's wedding attire up and down, raising an eyebrow.

"Well you look all high and mighty but these 'bees' of yours have quite a charge on their head" He smirked and laced his fingers together "It's a hefty bail"

Bail. Sh*t. Donald hadn't even thought about that. He'd been in such a hurry to save them he forgot to plan ahead. The guard noticed his confidence faltering.

"Yup, if there's no adequate bail by sundown" He drew a finger across his neck and shrugged.

The floor underneath Donald's feet felt as though it were caving in. There was no way they could get back to the castle, collect enough gold and bring it back by then. His own hot headedness is what would cause his lover's doom.

Suddenly the sound of something rolling on the desk made both him and the guard look down. A small golden band, set with gemstones skittered across the desk and landed in front of the guard's grubby fingers. He snatched it up eagerly, examining it in the dim lamp light.

"Nice strong alloy there, well cut stones. My my this is one fine ring~"

Douglas had tossed his wedding ring towards the guard. A glint of greed was festering in his eyes, and he looked between the ring, the Scots and the file.

"Well now, I'm a reasonable man. I say this should cover the release of one bee"

"One?" Donald choked. How was that going to work out? Even if he freed Bill the Brummie would never forgive him for sending Ben so casually to the noose.

The guard seemed unaffected by this.

"It's a fair price"

Not at all, Donald thought, angry tears welling up in his eyes. Clans help him he was gonna-

A second skittering ran out through the room and Donald saw his own wedding ring skid across the desk. He looked at Douglas, puzzled. His brother winked. Of course. Level headed Douglas HAD planned ahead, unlike him. In that moment Donald could have leapt for joy. But he remained calm, watching the guard study this ring the same way, before deciding both were genuine enough.

"Well boys" The guard heaved himself with great effort off his chair. He dipped a quill in a pot of red ink that was lying on the desk and put a large red line on the words of the bees file that said 'dusk gallows'.

"I say you've paid the bees freedom"


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

"Well Bill this is it"

"It's been nice knowing you, brother"

"You too"

The sound of the bee's voices coming up the corridor made the Scots stand to attention. Donald twiddled with a piece of his hair, biting his lip nervously. Douglas stroked his palm in circles, hoping they wouldn't start sweating.

"If this is the end I have no regrets" Ben said loudly. But his voice cracked.

"Me neither ... well actually it was me that broke your slingshot"

"My favourite one? You git!"

Still the voices came closer, practically in the room.

The guard was trying to keep Ben from whacking Bill over the head with his handcuffs and the confession about breaking what was once Ben's most treasured possession. At the sight of the princes standing in the room, Bill stopped dead in his tracks, his pupils contracting. Ben managed to land a blow to his twin's shoulder with the chain, but then had to follow his gaze when Bill didn't so much as flinch.

There was a prolonged silence. Seconds passed between the four men, and the guard, who was searching through the keys on his belt. Bill's hands were clenched into fists, shaking slightly as his entire torso began to shiver. A single tear rolled down his cheek, landing on the dusty flooring of the prison reception. Ben tore his eyes away from the Scots, his face burning with ... several emotions. Embarrassment, rage ... perhaps a little infatuation.

Unhoooking the key from its clip, the guard proceeded to open the handcuffs that bound the bees, much to their surprise. When the greasy guard had come to tell them it was time to leave the cell, both the Brummie's were sure they saw the gallows before their eyes. Seeing the Scots was a shock indeed. That was the one thing they were sure they'd never see again. And now, the cuffs were off their wrists. It was all bizarre. Both stared at their naked wrists, not daring to make any sudden movements in case this was a trap.

"Bail" The guard grunted, and went back down the corridor to return his items.

"A-are we free?" Bill asked, swaying a little on his heels, unable to take in his evasion with death.

Donald swallowed.

"Free as a bee" He laughed, a choked sob escaping him.

"Why did you save us?" Bill's eyes were glossy, as if he still expected there to be some sort of trickery afoot.

Donald licked his lips, his brain searching for the words to say. His heart got their first.

"Ah ... ah love ye Bill"

Bill looked away, his cheeks pink.

"I'm not sure your fiancée would want you saying that ..."

"Bill we ... the weddin' nae on" Donald took an uneasy step forwards, his vision blurring. "Ah cancelled it"

"An' he came all this way just tae find ye" Douglas added "We can prove it if ye come with us"

Bill's chocolate brown eyes scanned Donald's face, looking a final time for hints of deception.

"D-do you mean it?"

"More than anything" Donald nodded, and there were no lies in his words.

Bill smiled, seeing the Scot was telling the truth at last. Without warning, he suddenly threw himself across the room and into the Prince's arms. Donald stumbled backwards, thrown off guard, but managed to steady himself enough to hold the Brummie close, laughing and crying at the same time.

"I love you too Donnie!" Bill giggled, a little out of breath, as he wrapped himself tightly around the Scotsman and kissed him fervently on the lips.

Ben looked away, knowing he couldn't get between it this time. He felt a shadow pass over him and looked up to see Douglas looming over him.

"I suppose you've come to gloat ..."

"Nae" Douglas shook his head. "An' before ye ask, ma weddin' was cancelled too"

"Why would I care?" Ben's nose crinkled in a display of distaste.

"Because" Douglas smirked, bopping the end of the bee's button nose "Ah happened tae overhear some of yer conversation"

"And?" Ben was still trying to look tough despite his scarlet cheeks from the Prince's nose boop.

"Well it wouldnae be fair tae not tell me – yer bloody cute after all"

Ben's eyebrows retreated so far up his face they practically disappeared into his hairline.

"Wha-"

There was no way Douglas could have overheard him telling Bill he thought the Scot was hot. C-could he? The twinkle in his eyes would suggest so but ... oh bother.

"Douglas I ..." Ben began to murmur.

"Save it Benny" Douglas chuckled heartily, hugging the bee close to him. "Ah know whit ye mean~"

Ben didn't resist, but pressed his face into the chest of the prince to hide his blush.

"And ... if I was to say Bill wasn't the only bee who felt a ... certain way about a scot?" Ben mumbled into the cotton.

"Ah'd say Donald wasnae the only one feelin' a certain way about a wee bee~"

Ben looked up, his fringe sticking out in odd places from nuzzling Douglas' shirt. The Scot smiled and stroked a few of the stray hairs back into place.

"Ah love ye Ben"

"I ... I love you too Dougie ..." The bee confessed, looking downwards. "And I'm sorry for everything I did ..."

"It's a charm of yers" Douglas smiled, tipping the brummie's chin upwards. And perhaps, between the two of them, it was Ben that leant up first to initiate the kiss.

Finlay was the first to meet them at the gates as the Scots rode in with the bees on Glen and Jack. Bill was clinging to Donald's waist, and gazing at him constantly with a look of utter adoration. Ben looked a little pale from the ride, but seemed better when he was set on solid ground.

"Well, you must be the infamous bees" Finlay offered his hand to them "Welcome" He shook the brummie's hands in turn and then turned excitedly to Douglas as he took the horses' reins off of the Scots.

"It's a little premature, but she's here!"

"She?"

The stable hand gestured to an isolated stable at the west end of the courtyard.

"A fine filly"

Douglas caught onto his meaning and rushed forwards towards the stable. The other three looked between each other and Finlay, who gestured for them to follow. The stable was a little dark at first, but in the light of a candle on the wall, the princes and bees could see a tiny little foal nestled against the bay coat of Douglas' Clydesdale mare. The sound of human footsteps made both horses look up, and the all saw their first sight of the filly. She was built rather like her mother, but slimmer, and with a lack of hoof fur. For a newborn, she was obviously a muscle bound horse. Her coat was mostly bay like her mother but with patches of black from her father. One ebony patch in particular covered her left eye, looking a little like an eyepatch.

"Hello girl" Douglas clicked his teeth quietly. "She's gorgeous"

In the yard, Ol Jack' nickered as if proud.

"Ah guess she's yers to name then Dougie!" Donald laughed, patting his brother on the back.

"Ah'd like Ben tae name her" The prince smiled.

"Me?" Ben gulped, looking at the little filly who was resting sleepily in the hay. In the light her black patches were almost as purple as a

"Mulberry"

Douglas blinked, and then he beamed.

"Ah couldnae have thought of a better name!"

"You mean the fruit?" Finlay asked, puzzled at the prince's enthusiasm. Everyone laughed, and Mulberry brayed a little, as if she were also laughing, but seemed pleased with her name.

"Now what?" Bill giggled once the laughter settled down.

"Well-"

"Donald and Douglas McIntosh! Is that you in the courtyard?"

Maggie's voice echoed across the clearing, and both of her sons grimaced for a second, before laughing again.

"It's time tae meet the parents ah guess" Donald pointed a thumb over his shoulder.

Bill and Ben exchanged a nervous glance between themselves.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

As the final bell chime died down, so did the noise from the crowds of people. Heather and Gavina sat in the very front row, holding each other's hand tightly. A gentle breeze flickered across the courtyard, whipping stray hairs here and there from the fringes of the guests.

Several horses stood proudly to the side, their freshly washed manes glimmering in the sunlight, little collars of flowers strung around their necks. Mulberry was attempting to eat her own garland, and had made short work of the clover that bound it together. Every so often, she'd distract herself from eating her necklace long enough to nip at Glen's tail, only becoming more playful as her uncle flicked it back in annoyance. Never the less, it was a cute sight for the crowd to witness, and they chuckled merrily at it.

A ripple of 'hushes' spread through the crowd, as all heads turned to look back to where Prince Donald and Douglas were making their way through the centre of the crowd, adorned, for the third time, in sapphire blue swirls. This was neither a practise, not a faux wedding, Today, Donald and Douglas McIntosh would each marry for real. For love. And regardless of title, the princes knew they'd both be happier at the end of it. Since they weren't marrying into separate clans the brothers were both allowed to stay at McIntosh castle with their grooms – and their horses.

It had been several months since the rescue of the bees, and life in the castle had been weirder and more wonderful than ever before. Bill discovered he was actually pretty good at riding Glen (when he concentrated) and Douglas and Ben had planted a young mulberry tree in the centre of the courtyard in the hopes of berries a plenty in a few years.

Maggie had been particularly taken aback in meeting the bees for the first time. She knew they were criminals in the wanted sense, and had somewhat imagined imposing men of great stature, stubble and coarseness. When she opened the door of the stable all those months ago and found two short little blonde men with button noses, she'd been taken aback. Donald and Douglas had finally had the opportunity to sit down with her and Calum at dinner that night, and tell the full story. The king and queen had already sunk into the news that their son's fiancés married, which would mean the princes wouldn't marry them regardless. But to see the alternative had raised a questioning look between them. The bees didn't exactly fit into the princely atmosphere.

Never the less, there could be no doubt that there was a genuine connection between the four, and between the two respective couples in particular. Over the past few months, Bill and Ben had become well accustomed with the rest of the clan, and managed to prove that despite their size, they wouldn't have any nonsense from even the biggest clansman – a quick shot with a new slingshot Douglas had commissioned for his boyfriend proved that much. Luckily, it was only a strawberry that had been fired. But the precision of the aim gained the bees much respect that day.

So nobody objected when the second pair of grooms appeared at the back of the crowd. They each wore a white shirt with a black jacket. A red rose head and a thistle were pinned to their breast pockets to symbolise the union of their countries. Both bees wore trousers made out of the McIntosh tartan, and their faces had been decorated with the same ceremonial blue paint as their royal fiancés.

Bill took his place next to Donald, his entire body shaking slightly with anticipation. Donald smiled and tucked some of the loose hairs behind his ear. He remembered waking up in the pine trunk and doing the same, but now that Bill rested his cheek against the Scot's palm; it was a whole lot different.

Ben looked calm enough on the surface, but he was twiddling his thumbs, not quite looking Douglas in the eyes. The four went through the traditional clan vows and then each got a chance to speak a little before the official I do's.

"When ah decided tae run that night, ah was running from marriage. Ah never expected tae run right into it"

A ripple of relaxed laughter rang around the crowd, notably from Heather and Gavina in the front row, who were very pleased with the Scot's decision to run.

"But, knowin' it's taken me on a journey tae discover so many things about myself has been worth it" Donald smiled "Ah couldnae be a happier man"

The audience clapped enthusiastically.

"I said Donald was handsome right from the start" Bill smirked proudly "And I'm pleased to say I was right – he's both brave and heroic"

More cheers and everyone turned to the second couple.

"Ah'm afraid ma love story hasnae been as cheesy as ma brothers" Douglas chuckled "But ah've learnt a lot about maself and about the subject. Love's nae always a straight road – sometimes there's bracken in the way. But if yer willin tae be patient enough to get through it, the path ahead is beautiful"

The crowds cheered extra enthusiastically for the sentimentality of the metaphor, and Donald stuck a teasing tongue out at his twin. Ben was already blushing by the time he got to deliver his speech.

"I was wrong at first about these two" He rubbed his arm "Selfish even. I thought of only myself and Bill. I needed a slap in the face to see the truth" He grinned, the blush reaching the tips of his ears "And Douglas was a handsome slap at that"

The cheering this time was accompanied by chuckles, and the four grooms turned to face their respective as the officiator ran through the pre I do's.

"Do you, Donald McIntosh, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

"Ah" The scot paused and watched the audience, toying with the fact he'd said no last time. Even Bill held his breath.

"Ah do" Donald nodded at last, to sighs of relief and wolf whistles as the others agreed and exchanged rings.

"I now pronounce you all husbands and husbands"

A wave of guests rose to their seat as the Scots embraced their Brummies. Donald swept Bill into a low dip kiss as Douglas lifted Ben for their sealing. Heather, Gavina and Finlay O'Sullivan dove into baskets and showered the newlyweds with confetti. Their three voices rose above them all. At the sides, Skye and Glen nickered as if to congratulate their riders, and Ol' Jack stood on his hind legs for a few moments. Even the little filly Mulberry swished her mane in excitement.

Through their kisses, the Scots saw the beaming faces of Maggie and Calum McIntosh, cheering along with the rest of the crowd. And they smiled, knowing they'd done right by the clans after all.

"Care tae be carried my fair groom?" Donald chuckled, lifting a giggling Bill into his arms.

"I couldn't say no to that" The bee smiled and leant his head on his husband's shoulder, his chocolate brown eyes twinkling with a familiar adoration.

"Ah dinnae suppose ye want carrying too?" Douglas chuckled, kissing Ben on the cheek.

"I – I can walk Dougie" Ben blushed, looking longingly out across the courtyard.

"Are ye still thinking of 'all that might have been?'" Douglas chuckled, putting an arm around him and pulling him close. Ben sighed.

"No, it's just that the wedding cake looks delicious but I have to share it"

Douglas emitted a hearty chuckle and scooped Ben up anyway. The bee wriggled a little, but eventually settled down and let himself be carried to the other end of the courtyard, not denying that he felt sort of majestic in the embrace.

And at last, everything was fairy tale perfect, as it should be. The sun was setting over the McIntosh castle, coating the courtyard in a warm orange hue. A couple of butterflies flittered across the ground, pausing to sample nectar from the wildflowers before dancing off across the fields. Cake was passed around and laughter and compliments to the chefs continued for many hours more, as did the dancing. The princesses and princes had their happy endings at last.

The castle was alive and bustling that night, but in the distance the forest was mostly silent in the absence of their fugitives. Then in the bracken, a wolf howled, for even the wolves were kings.


	15. Epilogue

**Chapter 15**

 _6 years later ..._

The shouts of childhood innocence carried far over the courtyard and faded into the summer breeze that tickled the grass beneath Donald McIntosh's legs. He brushed a few dandelion seeds from the sides of his kilt, and leant back against the large Mulberry tree that was supplying him with shade. The sweet purple berries had since been picked and would soon be baked into a dessert fit for a king – or four. The Scotsman looked across the grass to where two young boys were wrestling, one of them threatening to throw the other down the dip.

Donald chuckled, contenting himself with the idea of a quick nap whilst the princes played. Since the Scots and Bees were unable to produce genuine heirs - and without technology or some sort of magic to aid them - both couples had adopted. Two boys; Hamish and Joseph. The princes of McIntosh clan. They were confident and brave 'wee bairns', and had already been reported to the kings several times by Finlay, who had caught them causing havoc in the stables. In the end, Donald and Douglas just grinned, and the stable hand had told them that no matter the blood relation, the princes were every bit as vigorous as the Scots had been as children, earning identical "That's my boy!"'s from their Scottish parents.

When they weren't up to mischief, or stealing Ben's slingshot, the princes had begun to ride the little ponies. This was the time Finlay enjoyed them the most, since it was one of the few times where both of them behaved. The only trouble they'd got themselves into so far was to teach the miniature equine to rear up, which they'd turned into a competition of who could hold that pose the longest. Joseph had been eyeing up Mulberry as a riding horse, but was always told that he'd need to be a little bigger before trying a fully grown mare, much less one that was half Clydesdale. For now both boys could trot and gallop on the larger ponies, and if there were small obstacles on the ground, both could make little jumps.

"Better than I'll ever be" Ben had murmured whilst watching them. He hadn't picked up the skill as easily as his brother, and coped with this by saying he'd rather be carted in a golden carriage anyway- or, at least hold onto to Douglas.

"Hey there Donnie~"

The Scotsman looked up into a pair of familiar chocolate brown eyes.

"Heya Billy~" He chuckled, smiling as the Brummie pressed a kiss to his lips.

"I finally got her to sleep"

"Only took four hours? Record"

"I think the breeze made her sleepy"

The bee sat down in the grass besides his husband, pulling back the little shawl and revealing a rosy cheeked little baby nestled in the blankets.

"Aww, Bonnie lass~"

The baby opened her eyes, and both kings held their breath. Donald and Bill's second heir, Bonnie, had a habit of crying excessively. This time however, she seemed calm in the warm summer air, and settled down peacefully against Donald's chest once Bill had passed her over.

"Ach, something tells me she'll be even more trouble than her brother" Donald chuckled, beaming as his daughter gripped onto his fingertip with one hand.

"Or Hamish will squash her" Bill frowned.

"Nae, the lad willnae – ah'm sure they'll get on just fine" Donald chuckled, stroking the ginger locks that curled from Bonnie's head. "Heck if me an' Ben can get on, why won't they?" He laughed, and Bill finally joined in.

"What are you saying about me?" Ben asked, suddenly coming up behind them.

"Ah was sayin' that Bonnie an' her brother Hamish are gonna get on"

"And you better make sure Joseph looks after her too" Bill punched his brother lightly on the shoulder.

"Unless she ends up being even more trouble" Douglas chuckled, joining the others.

"Ye read my mind brother" Donald poked his tongue out.

"We're twins Donnie, it's an innate instinct"

The four of them laughed together, and Bonnie gave a small hiccup which sounded almost like a giggle. There were a few moments of silence as they watched Joseph claim victory over his cousin in the playfight.

"That's how ye do it" Douglas laughed "Looks like we raised the alpha"

"Just ye wait till this one grows" Bill smirked, hugging Donald's arm and letting Bonnie hold one of his fingers instead. "I bet she'll have both of them kneeling under her boot"

"What scares me is how true that might be" Ben gulped, earning a second round of well natured laughter "Oh, I actually came to tell you that Heather and Gavina send their love"

"Where are they this time?"

"No idea, but based on the letter I'm going to guess they went to the coast somewhere"

"Why?"

Ben pulled out a letter from his breast pocket.

"The saltwater on the edges gives me an idea" He pointed to the top right corner "The seaweed is also a clue"

Donald and Bill read their friends letter in earnest, waiting to see where the queens had been this time. Since marrying, Heather and Gavina had taken to exploring many different places, even overseas. But as per the McIntosh king's request, they kept their friends updated on their travels.

"It'd be quite nice to go south sometime" Ben suggested, separating a blade of grass with a pull "Although who knows what the castle would look like when we got back"

"Aye, and ah dinnae fancy takin' the bairns with us either" Donald gestured with a nod of his head towards where Hamish and Joseph had begun a rather descriptive game of knights with sticks.

"Leave them with Maggie and Calum" Ben snickered, gaining three sets of 'lets not do that' expressions from the others. Grandparenthood had made Maggie and Calum spoil their grandchildren rotten, much more so than parenthood, to Donald and Douglas' indignation. They'd no doubt return to trouble.

"But we're never far from adventure anyway" Douglas mused, pulling his husband close to him and kissing his forehead affectionately.

"The Scots and bees having an un-adventure? That'll be the day" Ben agreed, blushing and returning a quick peck on the cheek.

"But none of us would trade that" Bill pointed out, leaning on Donald shoulder.

"Or anyone" Donald nodded, gently rocking a now sleeping Bonnie.

Minutes more silence passed, and the scene was calm. Too calm.

"Where did those two get to?" Ben asked, squinting into the distance for any sign of the princes.

"They were here just" Donald frowned, looking around without disturbing his daughter.

The sound of hooves came from the left of them as a small herd of miniature ponies began to stampede across the courtyard, obviously freed from their pen.

"Boys!" Finlay O'Sullivan's voice rose about the nickering and hooves. Hamish and Joseph whooped, each jumping on the back of one of the ponies at the front of the stampede, out of the stable hand's grip.

Bill and Ben smirked, their old mischievous memories coming back to them. Oh yes, blood was only a biological definition of family alright.

"That's my boy!"


End file.
